


Tails of Fame

by TykTrope



Series: Tails Series [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Anthropomorphic, Blood and Gore, College, Crime Drama, Death, Gen, Human, Organized Crime, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rat, Shooting, Snuff Films, Talking Animals, Torture, Villains, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 11:10:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 88,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15266229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TykTrope/pseuds/TykTrope
Summary: In an alternate universe where human beings and anthropomorphic animals coexist, a rat yearns for fame and fortune after becoming frustrated with his life. But after the rat commits a horrible crime, he soon finds his life spiraling out of control and realizes he'll do anything to reach any level of eminence.





	1. Programmed

**Author's Note:**

> So, here's the first entry in one of my two story series! This one is the Tails Series, which is gonna be a series of sci-fi anthologies. Every story within said series can be read on their own, completely out of order, but it all takes place in the same universe, and some characters from other stories may pop up here and there.
> 
> Anyway, let me go ahead and say that this will by far be the darkest story I've ever written. There's an explicit torture scene, various scenes of violence and death, multiple scenes involving mass shootings, and the main character is in fact a Villain Protagonist. So, y'know, trigger-warnings and all of that. There's also brief rape/scenes too. I've no intention of creating a story this dark/bleak ever again, and no other story in future installments of this franchise will be this dreary. Nevertheless, I don't exactly think I should ignore that I wrote something like this either, so I'm gonna post it here.
> 
> Soooooo enjoy. I guess. Hopefully. Possibly.

The black rat exhaled as he tapped his pen on the notebook, trying his best not to slouch back in his chair. He blinked a few times and set his pen down before snorting and looking at the lecturer standing in the center of the vast room. To his left was a young woman who was covering her mouth as she looked at some kind of bulletin on her cell phone. To his right, a lemur was sniffling as he noisily pressed his fingers against his laptop, typing in several letters and numbers as he worked on a project that had nothing to do with their current course. The rat exhaled some more before he turned and faced the lecturer again, still struggling to stay awake. At one point, a jet zoomed over the college campus, and the rodent was so bored that he looked outside the window just so he could see where the plane was heading off to. But then the plane disappeared from the rat’s field of vision, and he groaned with frustration as he slouched back into his chair and leaned his head back, ready to pass out. Before he could, the young woman sitting next to him nudged him.

“Hey…you see the news?”

“No,” the rat growled, his voice raspy.

“Check your phone…shit, can’t believe this happened,” she murmured.

The rat exhaled as he took out his phone and went online. He saw a breaking news story about how some anthro walked into a mall and started shooting up the building. The rat sniffed and looked at the amount of estimated casualties, and then he put his phone back down and rested his chin on his desk. 

“Did you see it, Rast?”

“Yup.”

“Geez…this world, eh?”

“Yup.”

The rat rolled his tongue around his mouth, licking his rotting, yellow teeth and trying to remove some of the food from between his teeth. He gritted his teeth and picked at them with a nasty claw before spitting on the floor and sniffling again. Then he set his head back down on his notebook. However, as he pressed his chin on the book, the lecturer looked in his direction and glared at him.

“Mr. Racklyn…perhaps you’d care to enlighten us above these killers’ psychology?”

“I’d rather not,” he said noisily.

A few students chuckled or snickered after hearing the rat’s comment. The lecturer scowled at him and rubbed his chin.

“C’mon now, Mr. Racklyn. I’m sure even you have some commentary about all this. You’re actually _awake_ today, so I gotta be doing something right!”

Rast listened to more snickering around him before he exhaled and rubbed his forehead. “Okay…tell me, why are we talking about Saunders Mittley? This guy murdered, what, forty people? Okay, cool; why is that important? Why does it matter that we have to know some dude killed some people?”

“Hmm…why don’t _you_ answer that question?”

Rast pondered for a moment and flicked his eyes down at his notebook. Then he looked back up at the lecturer and exhaled. “Because we, um, we must ‘learn’ about criminal behavior.”

The lecturer nodded. “That’s correct. Now if you and the other students—”

“But there’s nothing to learn, sir,” Rast interrupted. “This…this really isn’t hard to figure out. This guy, Saunders Mittley—he used to be some regular farmer, yeah? Just a normal human being adjusting to the new life around him on Tero. No one knew about him. No one cared about him enough beyond his immediate bubble. Suddenly, he goes out and mows down a bunch of people with his harvester. Now he’s one of the most well-known rural killers this side of the country. Just like that,” Rast said, snapping his fingers, “everyone knows who he is.”

The lecturer chuckled. “This is true, but not every killer kills just—”

“Okay, what about Mitchum Cooley? Just yesterday, he walked into a mall, shot up the place. Killed, what, eighty people before the cops gunned him down? It has only been twenty-four hours— _twenty-four_ —and I already know this guy’s name, I know that he was a crocodile, I know that he used to work at a tattoo parlor and he suffered from headaches possibly due to mixed medication…”

Rast chuckled and shook his head. “Did _anyone_ in this fuckin’ room know who Mitchum Cooley was before he went out and shot up this mall?”

Rast turned and looked at some of the students around him, waiting for a reply. No one answered.

“Nooooo, doesn’t sound like it. Y’see, no one gave a fuck about this croc. At all. But now…now every news station is plastering his name on their top news stories! And all he had to do was kill a bunch of innocent people in the span of a half-hour.”

Rast couldn’t help but smirk as he glared at the lecturer. “Ain’t that something?” he asked.

The lecturer didn’t humor the rodent. He stayed quiet for a moment while a few concerned students glared at him, and then he immediately turned and asked another student a similar question.

____________________________________

Rast grumbled to himself as he drove around in his beige car, gazing outside every now and then and taking in his surroundings. Same colorful, diverse city full of humans and all sorts of bipedal animals. Not far from a four-way intersection, a mouse was leaning against a telephone pole and texting; across the street, two humans held hands as they entered an ice cream shop. Rast cleared his throat as he stopped his vehicle and entered a traffic jam. He let go of the steering wheel and pulled out his cell phone as he listened to several car horns honking over and over again. He looked in the rearview mirror and noticed a human driving inside of a van alongside what appeared to be her gorilla boyfriend. Rast grumbled as he set his phone down and drove a few inches forward, only to get caught in the traffic jam again.

“Goddamn it,” Rast murmured.

The black rat exhaled as he rubbed his forehead and started to scroll through his messages, sniffling as he looked at some of the perverted pictures his two friends sent him while they were drunk. Rast smirked to himself before he deleted the photos. No need to save them, especially after tonight. Rast moved his car a few feet forward before stopping it again. Seconds later, boredom took over once again, and the rat rolled down his window and let the sounds and smells of the city fill his car. Cars could be heard honking at each other some meters away. Just beside the four-way intersection, a pizza shop was filled with customers, all ranging of different species. Rast squinted when he thought he saw one of his classmates inside chowing down on an anchovy and garlic pizza. As always, Rast looked around the city again, curious to see all the new details he would find amidst the skyscrapers. Two creatures were cleaning the windows just outside a skyscraper that was over forty floors high. One of the windows of an apartment building had shattered due to someone breaking in two nights ago. A taxi driver had parked against the side of the road before throwing out the passenger. When the driver sped away, Rast noticed that the passenger was a human being not wearing any pants, and drenched in vomit.

The light changed to green again, and Rast exhaled as he drove forward once more. He always found it hard to pay attention to the road; there was also something new with the city that Rast was curious about. So the rat drove slowly, moving his way into the less populated district of the city that was surrounded by trees and some houses and apartment complexes. The rat drove through the diverse neighborhoods, glancing at mice playing basketball while they were shirtless and the humans who were playing jump rope with their rabbit friends. Rast shouted and slammed on the brake when someone’s ball rolled out into the street, and one of the rabbits ran out and grabbed it, almost getting hit in the process. Rast scowled as he looked at the long-eared creature, but then the rabbit slowly walked off the street and back onto the sidewalk, taking her merry time, while the rabbit’s mother was busy talking on her phone. 

“Oughta run your fuckin’ ass over,” Rast murmured.

Rast slammed on the gas pedal and resumed his journey. He entered the cultural district of the city and parked inside a parking garage on the second floor. Once he got out, he spotted a human in shorts and a T-shirt strolling down the garage wearing tennis shoes. Rast grumbled as he looked at the human’s shoes clomping on the ground, and then looked down at his bare footpaws slapping on the concrete. He walked over to the human and whistled.

“Hey. Hey, human!”

The young man turned around and looked at the rat. “Hmm?”

Rast stopped walking and blinked as he looked at the man who was the same height as him. “Why you do that to yourself?”

“Um…what?”

Rast put his paws in his jeans’ pockets and blinked again. Then he looked down at the man’s shoes. “Them.”

“What’s ‘them’? The hell you talking about?”

Rast lifted his right footpaw and wiggled his toes. “These. Footwear. Why do you humans always wear them?”

“Um…because they’re comfortable?”

Clearly the human was unnerved. Rast blinked and shrugged. “They’re not, y’know. They cause fungi, make your feet sweat, make your feet stink. They get old, they tear, and then you spend money buying a new pair.”

“Dude. They’re just shoes.”

“But they’re pointless and uncomfortable.”

“Maybe to _you_ , but not to _us_ ,” the human said with emphasis. “Besides, shoes are like armor for our feet. Comes in handy if you step in glass.”

“But you wouldn’t step in glass if you paid attention to where you were walking.”

The human huffed. “Sometimes we don’t see shit on the ground. Sometimes we don’t pay attention.

“I see. So you humans are stupid.”

Rast couldn’t explain the face the human made. He thought it was a cross between bewilderment and ire. The black rat blinked twice, and then he walked away from the man, telling himself that he would never wear shoes even if his parents tried to force him. As he walked out of the parking garage, the rat flared his nostrils and took in the typical scents he came across in the city. Some humans jogging and covered in sweat, the faint scent of urine on the ground, a dog who smelled like he just crawled out of a dumpster, an actual dumpster that smelled better than the dog he walked by, and lots of smog and smoke that were being emitted from the cars. The scents comforted him, even though a normal human would hate the odor and would complain about moving to a quieter country on Tero. Rast looked at the ground and walked around a pile of fecal matter someone refused to pick up before he turned and arrived at a crosswalk. The rodent waited until the “Walk” signal switched on, and then he jogged across the street and arrived beside a local Mexican restaurant. Rast sniffed twice and salivated, longing to try one of the food items that humans called “tacos,” even though they allegedly were known for making humans use the bathroom a lot.

But then Rast flicked his eye at a sign outside the store, and then he frowned and snorted. Rast spat in front of the restaurant’s entrance before he walked away swearing to himself. _Fuckin’ humans and their hypocrisy_ , he thought to himself. Rast walked for another few minutes in a grumpy mood until he spotted a donkey sitting on the ground in front of a disheveled building. Rast stopped and glared at the donkey, who was snoring and only wearing a raggedy jacket and pair of pants. Then the rat looked at the black pan resting in the donkey’s lap and spotted some change and several dollar bills. Without hesitating, Rast crouched down and swiped a twenty-dollar bill from the pan before hurrying away before the donkey could wake up. He smirked to himself as he continued his journey, and arrived at his destination five minutes later. It was a large diner named Porky’s that emitted a large amount of smoke from the chimney, and it was wedged right between two giant skyscrapers. Rast flicked his eyes at the sign in front of this building and grinned widely. It was always pleasant to be reminded that restaurants and bars were catered only to _his_ kind as well.

Once Rast entered the diner, he could see that only a handful of people were inside, namely a few raccoons, a goat munching on a salad, and a group of other college students who were all different types of monitor lizards.

“Ah, hello, Rast! You want the usual this time?”

The black rat turned as he looked at the fresh-scented feline wearing a dark blue blouse and long skirt with a white apron tied around her waist. He smiled at the gray-striped cat, telling himself that that was what most people liked to see.

“Eh, nah. Think I’ll have the steak this time, with that blood sausage on the side.”

Rast looked down at the cat’s blouse and rubbed his nose. “That’s, uh, that’s a nice…skirt you’re wearing,” he said.

The cat giggled and smiled back at the rodent. “Thank you, Rast!”

_Yes_ , Rast thought. _People like compliments_. The black rat nodded before both creatures walked away; the feline headed into the diner’s kitchen while Rast headed over to the same booth he always sat at whenever he visited the diner. Rast took out his phone again and scrolled through the Internet once more, sniffing and checking out all of the recent news stories. The story about the killer who shot up the mall was still the biggest bulletin, not that Rast was all that surprised. As he waited patiently for the cooks to prepare his meal, Rast gazed out the window on his left and spotted it once again. There was a building further down the city block that had a billboard on the roof depicting a well-dressed man with a cocky grin on his face as he gave a thumbs-up gesture. Rast blinked and stared at the sign and the name above the man’s head. The whole billboard read:

“ANOTHONY HUNNERS, ATTORNEY AT LAW. CALL 596-BLUE, AND WE’LL TAKE CARE OF YOU!”

Rast never called the number, but he did look up Anthony Hunners on the Internet, multiple times. He saw multiple ads about the man on his TV. He saw multiple billboards of the man. He saw his flyers on telephone poles. He saw advertisements placed on city buses. He even saw ads for his company when he was busy looking at pornographic websites. Rast rolled his tongue around his teeth and scratched his claws against the table, taking a deep breath. _He’s just some lawyer_ , Rast told himself. Rast shut his eyes and coughed. When he opened them back up, Rast turned and looked out the window again, where he spotted a metro bus cruising down the road very slowly. He frowned again. This bus was showcasing a pretty fox dressed in a sparkly outfit that showed off her breasts. She was holding a microphone and standing alongside a group of male backup dancers who were all shirtless and dressed in tight pants. Rast looked away from the bus and inhaled sharply again, forcing himself to bottle up his anger. _She’s just a pop star_ , Rast told himself. Once the bus was gone, Rast turned and glared out the window. And then he scowled when he saw another advertisement on a taxi cab, this time displaying some businessfrog with a smug grin on his face.

“Fucking hell,” Rast said, out loud.

He dragged his claws against the table so hard that he nearly left marks. Rast started gritting his teeth.

“Rast Racklyn!”

Rast immediately sprang to life and removed his paws from the table. Standing just outside the kitchen on the other side of the diner’s main bar was a massive, corpulent pig clad in a sweaty, stained tank-top that used to be white at one point. He had a long snout and a few tusks were sticking out of his mouth. His ears were big and floppy, and his pink skin looked old and filthy. The giant pig chuckled as he pushed open a small set of double-doors separating the bar from the kitchen. _Damn it_ , Rast thought. _Guess I better go say hi_. Rast got out of his booth and smiled as he walked over to the pig. Rast could see that the giant beast was wearing loose-fitting green shorts that looked stained. His belly was so big that it bulged past the waistband; part of his gut was showing, and Rast could see his dirty belly-button.

“Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey, my dear pup! My dear friend. C’mere an’ give ol’ Seamus a hug!”

_Smile_ , Rast told himself. _Smile and suck it up. He’ll only hold you for about ten seconds_. When Seamus opened his arms and embraced Rast, the rat grunted when the corpulent beast nearly crushed his spine. He listened to Seamus laughing jovially in his ear, spraying spittle from his mouth. _Keep hugging_ , Rast told himself. _Keep smiling. Don’t acknowledge his appalling body odor. Smile. People like smiles_. After the two creatures stopped hugging, Seamus grunted as he reached down and pulled up his shorts. Rast sat back down in his booth, and Seamus decided to sit across from him. Rast looked at the grinning pig, gazing at his dark blue eyes and his drooling mouth.

“How ya doin’, pup? College goin’ all good?”

Rast shrugged. “Same as always. That’s, uh, nice shirt you got on.”

Seamus chuckled, his big belly jiggling. “Been wearin’ this shit fer over three years! Surprised it still fits!”

_Seamus is a pig, Rast. He doesn’t care about compliments. Remember that_ , Rast told himself.

“Anyways, how ya doin’, pup?”

Rast shrugged again. “Uh, y’know…same shit, different day.”

“Uh-huh,” Seamus said, nodding.

There was a long pause. Seamus kept staring at Rast, and the pig folded his arms and set them both down on the table. Rast wiggled his nose and looked at the kitchen. A waiter, a tiger wearing a clean, white shirt and black jeans, walked over to Rast’s table carrying his food.

“Here you go, sir. Enjoy!”

_Thank him, Rast. People like to be thanked._

“Thank you,” Rast said with a nod. 

The waiter walked back into the kitchen while Rast looked down at his food. He immediately drooled when he looked at the blood sausage and the rare steak that was releasing juices and blood all over the plate. Rast grabbed a large piece of the sausage that was still hot and chunky and bit into it, letting the juice dribble from his chin. Seamus reached over and swiped one of Rast’s sausages from him before he shoveled the entire chunk of meat into his mouth. Rast scowled at the pig for a moment, and then went back to munching on his meal. It wasn’t until Rast finished the sausage and Seamus swallowed his meat with a thick gulp that the pig glared at Rast and exhaled.

“So. How ya doin’, pup?”

Rast looked at the giant pig in front of him and noticed he was smirking, not smiling. The way he squinted and the movement of his lips and how he showed his bad teeth implied something sinister. The rat chose not to answer, knowing it was pointless to repeat himself for a third time. So he reached down, picked up his rare steak with his bare paws, and bit into it. Rast mumbled as he chewed on the beef, letting some of the juice flow down his chin, before he bit into the steak again and looked outside. He could see out the corner of his eye and noticed that Seamus was still glaring at him, making him feel uncomfortable. Rast shut his eyes and swallowed hard before he put the steak down and licked his fingers clean. Even then, Seamus still hadn’t changed his expression, and Rast wasn’t sure he even blinked. The rat snorted and scowled.

“Frustrated. Had an outburst in class today.”

“Hehe, said the magic word!”

Rast knew it was coming, but the stench still caught him off-guard. He watched as the pig leaned over in the booth, and then listened to a muffled sputtering noise that seemed to go on for five seconds. Then Seamus exhaled and grinned, while Rast simply rubbed his nose.

“You could at least _try_ to hold those in. I don’t think anyone wants to suffocate on flatulence.”

“Too fuckin’ bad! Tch, you better be lucky I ain’t got diarrhea. Shat m’self silly last week!”

Rast ignored the gross beast and continued. “I had to report to the office so I could have a…” Rast paused and looked out the window. He sucked on his teeth and stared at Seamus again. “A discussion.”

“Oh. One of _those_ talks, eh?”

Rast bit one of the blood sausages in half and chewed as he spoke. “We were discussing the minds of pathological serial killers, narcissists, sadists. Those kinds of things. I said things ‘inappropriate’ in class. Things people don’t wanna hear. Things people don’t like hearing.”

Rast swallowed the sausage, then lowered his head and licked some of the blood off his plate. He picked up the steak again and let some of the juice run down his grimy paw.

“I must try harder, Seamus. I cannot keep having these outbursts.”

Another series of sputters filled Rast’s ears. The rat scowled at the pig while Seamus just giggled and sniffed the air.

“Ah. It happened again I see. Hmph. Fuck ‘em.”

Rast bit into his steak and continued. “I just have to smile and nod, Seamus. That’s all,” Rast said, before he looked at the billboard showing off Anthony Hunners’ face. “That’s all I gotta do…then maybe…”

The rat set his steak down before he grumbled. “Mitchum Cooley. Have you heard of that crocodile?”

Seamus exhaled and rolled his eyes. “Ugh, _another_ mass shooting. I don’t fuckin’ care.”

Rast frowned. “Don’t say that. That’s a horrible thing to say.”

“Don’t even. You don’t give a shit either.”

“Of course I do,” Rast lied. “It’s a horrible tragedy.”

“Uh-huh. And yet, when you look at that billboard outside, I can _see_ you seething. Yet reading about a tragedy in the news doesn’t result in any reaction from you.”

Rast blinked, and then he reached down and bit into his steak. He chewed on it for a moment and swallowed with a thick gulp before he exhaled and looked at Seamus.

“The steak is delicious,” he said abruptly.

“Don’t change the fuckin’ subject.”

Rast blinked again. “I’m not. I’m merely giving you a compliment.”

_Shit_ , Rast thought. _This is Seamus. He doesn’t care about that shit_.

“I don’t care about that shit.”

_See?_

“You think I don’t see people like you every damn day? Hell, some of them are in this diner as we speak. But they’re too afraid to do something about it. But you…hehehe.”

Seamus reached over and grabbed Rast’s left paw. “You’re dying to let it out. You’ve been constipated for twenty-eight years, and you just took a shitload of laxatives! You really gonna sit there and tell me you ain’t gotta shit, pup? All these ‘farts’ you lettin’ out in class gotta mean something! Sooner or later, all that shit’s gonna come out yer ass, pup, and you gonna make a big ol’ mess! Hehehe, yeeeeeaaaaah…betcha everyone in this city’s gonna smell that stink!”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak in metaphors that revolve around bowel movements,” Rast said with disgust.

“Nah. You deal with it, pup. Sooooooooo many bitches whine about shit. They talk ‘bout how it stinks, how it’s full of bacteria, how gross it feels and looks. Me?” Seamus exhaled as he leaned back in the booth and rested the palms of his hands against the back of his head. He smirked as he showed off his messy, hairy armpits. “Aaaahhh, I just can’t get enough of it!”

Rast exhaled for a moment and tried to ignore the pig. He finished eating the rest of his blood sausage and swallowed hard, shortly before he got a text message. Rast pulled out his phone and checked the message he got, and then smiled toothily when he received a photo of a young man’s penis and testicles. Rast licked his lips hungrily before he subconsciously reached down and groped himself. He flicked his eyes to his right to make sure no one was watching. And then he stuffed his left paw down his pants and growled.

“Oof…I can smell that from here, pup. You popped one _real_ quick! …Whatchu lookin’ at?”

Rast somehow forgot Seamus was sitting directly across from him. He yelped and removed his paw, and then he deleted the picture he got.

“Nothing.”

Seamus put his arms down and sniffed the air. Then he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “You smell like you ain’t rubbed one out in over a month. Them balls must be aching, pup.”

“Please be quiet,” Rast growled.

“Ooooooh, are you sexting, pup? Did your mysterious faggy boyfriend send you a naughty picture? I wanna see it!”

“I deleted it.”

“Awww. Guess now no one will know you’re a faggot.”

Rast squinted. “Don’t use that word.”

“Why not, faggot?”

“It’s inappropriate.”

“But that’s what you are, _faggot_.”

Now Rast was scowling. “It’s rude.”

“But it’s what you are, faggot. Or did you forget that faggots like sucking faggy cock and taking faggot dicks up their dirty faggot asses?”

Rast snarled audibly and made a fist with his right paw. “Shut up you fuckin’ hypocrite.”

“Hey, I know I’m a fag! Got no problem admitting that! Just fucked a bear last night. You’d be amazed how much they moan when they got a thick—”

“I get it, Seamus, I get it. Are you done yet?”

Seamus shrugged. “S’all depends on you, pup.”

“What do you want from me?” Rast asked, now breathing heavily. “You want me to spill my guts, huh? You-you want me to explain my life story and-and all my frustrations to you, like you’re some goddamn therapist? Let me tell you something you fat fuck: I’m fine! I’m-I’m perfectly normal! I got a good job, I got my own car, I got a place to live! I’m fine! The fuck do you do? You go ‘round fucking anyone and everyone who has a cock! You have horrible hygiene, you constantly push people’s buttons, and you shamelessly break wind in public! You’re a goddamn cesspool, Seamus. Nothing else!”

Rast backed away from Seamus and exhaled as he rubbed some sweat off his head. He could feel his heart beating rapidly and realized that everything he just said was out loud. Rast took a long deep breath while Seamus giggled and reached forward, patting Rast’s paw gently.

“Y’see? Don’t ya feel better? That right there, that was a half-minute burst! Reeeeeaaaaaaal nasty, Rast! Now…all you gotta do is keep that ass open! All the shit will fall out soon enough.”

Rast jerked his paw away. “I’m fine. And I’m not ‘taking a shit,’” he said, creating quotation marks with his fingers.

“You will be, Rast. S’a normal bodily function. You can’t hold it in, no matter what you say. All someone’s gotta do now is just tap yer tummy, and it’ll all flow! Just _one_ little flick, Rast…”

Rast cleared his throat. “I’ve no idea what you’re implying,” he lied.

“Yeah, you do. And once it’s out…you’ll feel better! You’ll be a changed rat!”

Rast quickly reached down and grabbed the rest of his steak. He shoved the slab of meat into his maw and messily chewed with his mouth open before he swallowed and stood up.

“Thanks for the meal,” he said, digging in his pocket and tossing a twenty-dollar bill on the table. 

“Come back after your bowels are cleared! I enjoy having these chats of ours.”

Rast glared at the nasty pig’s grin for a moment before he blinked and turned around. Then Rast walked out of the diner and headed over to the parking garage, trying to get the conversation out of his head. Rast grumbled and shook his head. _You should’ve cut out his tongue with a steak knife_ , he told himself.

_Fucker deserves it_.


	2. Three’s a Crowd

They seemed happy, which made him happy. None of them seemed concerned about the state of his apartment. That was good, especially since Rast hadn’t bothered to clean up a whole lot beforehand. The rat rubbed his paws together as he sat on the couch by himself, looking around the living room for anything out of order. His wooden brown table had magazines and a remote control on it, the light brown carpet had a few empty beer cans on it, but no mysterious stains. Rast turned and looked beside the front door, where he spotted the empty bookcase that only had two pictures resting on it. Rast stood up and walked over to the bookcase, where he saw a picture of himself smirking as he stood beside his mother and father, and another rat who was a bit taller than him. All of them were smiling—it was what the photographer wanted. So Rast blinked and did as he was told, because that was the way it worked. 

_Everyone loves smiles_ , Rast told himself.

The rat grumbled as he looked at the picture and turned it around, along with the second picture on the bookcase. Once he finished, he turned and noticed that the other two humans had finished cleaning off their plates and rushed back into the living room. Rast smiled as he looked at the two, trying his best not to stare at their crotches. One of the humans was Caucasian and had light brown hair, with greenish-blue eyes and a scar on his forehead. The lanky rodent stared at the young man’s black shirt that had the logo of his favorite band on it before looking down at his dusty jeans and black socks. The other human had dark skin and short black hair, and he was only clad in a gray tank-top and blue jeans. Rast liked him a bit more, if only because he didn’t like shoes either, and was standing in his apartment barefoot.

“So,” the dark-skinned man said, “Y’all ready for this?”

“Oh. We-we don’t have to rush into this,” Rast lied.

The light-skinned man chuckled as he reached over and groped Rast. The black rat squeaked and meekly moved backwards, but both men already knew about the secret he was hiding beneath his trousers. Rast had already left a small stain after getting multiple erections during dinner. The rat chuckled before he gestured towards the bedroom. Both humans followed him, although they paused once they stood in his doorway and noticed his room was a bit disheveled. Rast glanced at them and grumbled. _Humans don’t like messiness_ , he told himself. _You gotta be clean. Remember?_ So Rast walked over to his large bed and grunted as he tossed his filthy laundry in the closet. He kicked his stack of pornographic magazines beneath the bed, and stomped on a cockroach that was nibbling on the pizza crust he forgot to eat. Rast looked at the crust and immediately picked it up, opening his mouth. But then he flicked his eyes at the humans and changed his mind, where he disposed of the crust inside his waste bin instead. He knew his room was still filthy; the waste bin in question was overflowing, and there were various dried stains all over the floor and even part of his bed.

“Well, eh, come on in!” he said merrily.

Both humans stepped into the room slowly. Rast noticed that the dark-skinned man had to nudge the Caucasian with his elbow before he entered, but he took no mention of it. Then the dark-skinned man shut the door and locked it, while the other man snorted.

“Remember, Rast, don’t rush it.”

Rast nodded. “I know, Tomas. I’m sure you and Dante are used to this kind of stuff?”

Dante smirked. “You’d be surprised.”

There was a brief pause, and then Rast chuckled as he walked over to Dante, still grinning awkwardly. _Keep smiling_ , he told himself. _Humans like smiles_. So Rast kept grinning and showing off his rotting yellow teeth, all while Dante raised his eyebrow in confusion. Rast looked left and right, and then he opened his mouth and exhaled as he brought his lips close to the man. Dante scrunched up his face and turned away, blocking Rast’s mouth and plugging his nose.

“Uh, okay, we’re not doing that,” Dante said.

Rast looked confused. “But…I thought humans liked kissing.”

“I can’t kiss someone whose breath stinks of garlic and Swiss cheese.”

Rast blinked, still oblivious. “I wasn’t aware that my breath had an offensive odor.”

Dante exhaled. “Course not.”

_Stop talking_ , Rast told himself. _They’re humans. They don’t care about that kissing and cuddling shit. You don’t care about that kissing and cuddling shit. Just get naked and start fucking_. Rast backed away from Dante and chuckled awkwardly. Then he grabbed his messy T-shirt and grunted as he pulled it over his head, showing off his scruffy fur and his slightly distended stomach. Rast knew he was skinny, but he didn’t look like he was anorexic. Nevertheless, Rast noticed the expression on the humans’ faces changed when he took off his shirt. So Rast reached down and pulled down his jeans and underwear, revealing his equally shaggy, furry legs. It wasn’t until the humans saw his dangling testicles and the foreskin around his penis that their expressions changed to something a lot more lustful.

“Damn. Got a pair on you, dont’cha?” Tomas said.

After Rast grinned to himself, he walked over to Tomas and grunted as he grabbed his trousers and started yanking off his belt and unzipped his pants. Tomas grabbed Rast’s arms and held him steady.

“Slow down, Rast. You’re going too fast.”

Rast blinked and lowered his ears. “S-sorry…I’m just…”

“Is this your first time, hon?”

Rast didn’t answer. He just looked away and shut his eyes. He heard Dante walking around the bedroom while Tomas put a hand under his chin and lifted his head.

“Hey…it’s all right, bud.”

“I-I just…I wanna get it right,” Rast confessed.

“Bah, he’s just got the jitters, Tomas! ‘Sides, I know how awkward it can be fuckin’ someone for the first time. Maybe this will help?”

Rast turned around and looked at Dante. He pulled out two black ski masks from his pocket and winked at Tomas. Afterwards, Dante put one of the ski masks on before tossing the other one to Tomas. Tomas caught the mask and put it on as well, then looked down at Rast so only his eyes and mouth was visible.

“Sometimes it’s less awkward if you…you know, can’t see the person you’re banging. I’m sure it’ll be odd if you came to school and all you could remember was what our faces looked like when we came.”

Rast nodded. “I suppose so.”

“Now just relax,” Dante said, as he sat his phone upright on Rast’s dresser across from his bed. “We’ll take care of you.”

The rat suddenly felt less awkward. He smiled at Tomas and nodded, and shortly afterwards, Tomas took off his shirt and resumed taking off his clothes. Dante, meanwhile, approached Rast from behind and groped him. Rast couldn’t help but squeak with delight when Dante squeezed his buttocks and probed around the base of his tail.

“Damn…may be skinny, but you got a fat ass on you!”

Rast would’ve blushed if his body was capable of showing off rosy cheeks. After Dante groped Rast, he took off his clothes as well. Soon, all three of them were naked, and Rast noticed that the strong scent of musk was filling his nostrils. He sniffed multiple times, and he moaned softly as he felt an erection coming on. The humans hugged and groped Rast, embracing him in their strong arms and warm bodies, before Tomas gestured for Rast to get on the bed. Rast’s heart beat faster as he got on his giant, crumb-filled mattress. The human being towered over Rast for a moment, groping his testicles again and rubbing between his ears. The rat drooled profusely, panting and huffing as he felt his hormones raging. Rast noticed Tomas scrunching up his face as he panted, and he shut his mouth after remembering what Dante told him earlier. Then they changed position, and Rast shifted around so he was on all fours and his head was at the foot of his bed. Dante was watching and rubbing himself, while Tomas growled tenderly as he crawled over the rat. Rast panted and drooled again, and then shouted when he felt Tomas’ copulatory organ entering him.

It was nothing like those videos he masturbated to online. It hurt more than he expected, but he embraced the pain and longed for more. He tried to stay silent, but when Tomas went faster, he started moaning vociferously and shouting, gripping the bedsheets so hard he nearly tore them with his claws. Rast was so excited that he ended up ejaculating before Tomas did, and the rodent howled as he listened to his seed splattering on his mattress. By the time Tomas was done, Rast thought someone poured warm, sticky milk into his anus. It felt awkward at first, and he thought something was wrong with his bowels. But Rast wanted more—he _needed_ more. After all those times he rubbed himself as he observed those pornographic videos, and now he was experiencing it. Dante swapped with Tomas, and the whole process repeated itself. And much to Rast’s surprise, it felt even better the second time. Despite how tired, sweaty, and musky they all were, Rast didn’t want it to stop. He wanted to keep going until he passed out from exhaustion. So Rast waited for the humans to regain their energy. And then they resumed fulfilling each other’s libido, all while Dante’s phone remained on the dresser.

__________________________________________

Going to school the next day was awkward for Rast. He couldn’t stop grinning to himself as he greeted all his friends and said hello to his instructors. If anything, he found it difficult to walk, and his crotch and tailhole were constantly itching. Rast actually had to head into the bathroom just so he could duck into a stall and relieve himself of the bothersome itch. _Should’ve showered, Rast_ , he told himself. _Now everyone will know you smell different today_. Even as the rat washed his paws after scratching himself, he felt dirtier than usual. But he didn’t care. He just looked at himself in the mirror and smirked widely. Suddenly, one of the men who used the urinal walked behind him and slapped him on his behind. Rast yelped and lowered his tail, and then he glared at the young man in his shorts and tank-top.

“Damn. Hehe, your ass _is_ fat!” the man chuckled.

Rast just blinked and glared at the man as he walked out of the bathroom. _The hell…all right then_ , Rast thought. The rat shook his head and grumbled as he walked out of the bathroom and back out into the corridor. He resumed walking to his classroom, but along the way, someone whistled at him inappropriately—a wolf whistle, if Rast remembered the term correctly. Two female tigers were looking at Rast with disgust. He nodded at them, and then they quickly walked away. Again, Rast wasn’t sure what that was all about, but he was feeling more awkward about everything going on. The rat sniffled and wiped his nose, moments before a human with long black hair ran up to Rast panting.

“Hey, Rast! What the hell’s going on?”

“Um…I don’t know?”

“I just got a video in my student e-mail about a rat and two humans in a threesome. Apparently it’s called ‘Faggy Ratty.’”

Rast raised his eyebrow. “That’s…lewd,” was all he could say.

“Yeah, I know. Lotta rumors goin’ around saying you’re the rat in that video.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous. I wasn’t filmed—” _Stop. Change your sentence_ , Rast told himself. “Uh, I mean, I’m not gay, Shonda. And even if I was, I wouldn’t have sex with humans. And even if I did, why the hell would I post something like that online and send it to school?”

Shonda huffed. “I know you’re not that stupid. I’m just…people do shit, Rast. I’m just warning you in advance in case something happens.”

_Smile. People like smiles. Look calm_ , Rast told himself. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Just some stupid-ass prank. ‘Sides, lotta black rats look like me!”

Rast waved his paw and smirked. “I’ll be fine, Shonda.” _Don’t leave yet_ , he told himself. _Thank her first_. “But thanks for the heads up!”

Rast turned around and headed for his next class, chuckling at the absurd idea. He walked inside the giant area, where he saw his instructor getting the projector ready for the next lesson. The rat sat down at his typical seat and placed all his books and his backpack down, waiting patiently for everyone else to show up. Once they did, Rast looked at the computer monitor in front of him before glancing out into the front of the room. As the instructor began his lesson, Rast immediately looked at his cell phone to check his messages.

“…sentation on how profilers analyze serial killers’ minds. Now if you look here…”

Rast was still looking at his phone as the instructor kept talking. He flicked his eyes up at the main screen and did a double-take. The first two words he saw were “FAGGY RATTY” in huge bold letters. And then the video switched to a shot of Rast getting sodomized in his bed by Tomas.

“What the fuck?!” a student shouted. 

Rast’s eyes widened. That _was_ him—there was no mistaking it. The man behind him even wore the same ski mask Tomas had on. Rast shivered and whimpered as he heard other students murmuring or exclaiming at the graphic video on the screen. The instructor even swore, and he broke out into a fit of sweat as he desperately tried to shut off the computer. Rast wasn’t sure what was going on. He slowly sank into his chair and covered his eyes, although he could still hear himself moaning and squeaking as the video continued. Eventually, the video abruptly stopped, and when Rast lowered his paws, he could see that the instructor had violently yanked his power cord from the wall.

“Mr. Racklyn! Administrator’s office!” the instructor screamed.

Rast stammered. He looked around the room. Everyone was either smirking at him, covering their mouths, or grinning wickedly. Rast even saw one student pretend to act that he was having someone’s penis stuffed in their mouths. Rast opened his mouth to explain himself. And then all the monitors in the room switched to the video. All Rast could hear was the sound of himself moaning and gasping, which ended with the sound of him yowling as he ejaculated on the video. The instructor realized what was happening and panicked.

“Shut off your computers! SHUT ‘EM OFF!”

One student was rapidly pressing the power button on his CPU tower. “I can’t! None of the buttons are working!”

Rast stood up and backed away, hyperventilating and shaking. Every single person was either looking at him or watching the video. It was impossible not to at least hear what was going on. Rast sobbed gently as he observed himself sucking on Dante’s penis. Then the video cut and switched to a different scene, where he was leaning against his bed moaning while Dante performed anilingus.

“Fucking hell.”

“He’s rimming him!”

One of the students stood up covering her mouth. She coughed and retched, and Rast assumed she was running to go vomit in the bathroom. Rast couldn’t stand it. He sprinted for the door and left the classroom, panting and grasping his chest as he struggled to maintain his composure.

____________________________

“I DIDN’T DO THIS!” Rast pleaded.

The rat panted as he stared at the administrator in front of him: a burly white rhinoceros clad in a dark brown suit and yellow tie. He twiddled his thick thumbs before snorting so loudly that Rast thought he saw air fly right out his nostrils. The instructor was also standing in the room, wiping his face off and trying to stay calm.

“Sir, it is possible—”

“Be quiet, Mr. Kenchum. I would like to hear Mr. Racklyn explain this absurdity.”

_Don’t panic_ , Rast told himself. _That’ll just make you look guilty_. “I…I was just sitting in class waiting for-waiting for Mr. Kenchum, sir.” Rast swallowed. “Then…um, when he started his video, um… _that_ came up on the projector screen.”

“Mm. So you _didn’t_ have sex with those two humans?”

“No, I did—”

The rhinoceros cut off the rodent when he slammed his pencil on the desk so hard it nearly broke. Then the pachyderm groaned as he leaned back in his chair, causing it to squeak. Mr. Kenchum still looked nervous, unsure of what he should say or do.

“L-look…who you have sex with is not our concern. But someone made that tape…and the other two men were wearing ski masks. And you _are_ studying filmmaking,” said Mr. Kenchum.

Rast scoffed. “That doesn’t mean I did it!”

“And I understand that, but you have to understand how this looks.”

“It-it’s not like this was sent all over the Internet or anything! And-and the news doesn’t know—no one knows except the people who saw it!”

The rhinoceros glared at Rast, now looking just as tired as he was angry. “People in this school saw it. Somehow, the perpetrator got into the school website’s e-mail database and sent it to hundreds of students. Not to mention that Mr. Kenchum was humiliated today. You wanna know how horrible this would’ve been if someone’s parents were here? The School Board? You’ve any idea how badly this could’ve fucked us?”

“But, Mr. Dyedar, I-I didn’t—”

The rhinoceros raised a thick hand. “That’s not important.” He sighed, and his short ears flopped a bit. “Now…I’m _not_ going to expel you.”

Rast squinted. The way Mr. Dyedar put emphasis on “not” made it sound like he was upset that Rast _wasn’t_ getting expelled.

“However, I suggest…that you take time off, both for our sake and yours.”

Mr. Kenchum looked at the rhino and frowned. “Sir, we shouldn’t be punishing Mr. Racklyn; he’s the victim here!”

“Obliviousness is no excuse,” Mr. Dyedar growled.

Mr. Kenchum scowled at him. “So if someone hid a camera in _your_ office while—”

Rast stared at Mr. Dyedar. He observed the rhino turning his head to glare at the human instructor, scowling so hard Rast thought the rhino would never smiled again. Then Mr. Dyedar snorted so much that some of the papers on his desk moved. Mr. Kenchum quickly stopped talking and looked away. The rat kept paying attention to Mr. Dyedar’s body language. He looked closely at his hands, and noticed he was still wearing a ring. Rast quickly looked back up at the pachyderm when he turned to face him again.

“How long am I suspended?” Rast asked.

“Indefinitely. At least until we get this shit sorted out.”

There was another pause, and then Mr. Dyedar sucked on his teeth. “Who were those two _humans_ you…fornicated with?”

_Again with the emphasis_ , Rast told himself. _Just admit you’re racist and own up to it_.

“I…I don’t know,” Rast lied.

“You’re lying.”

Rast shook his head. “Sir, I swear—”

Mr. Dyedar slammed his fist on his desk, causing Rast to squeak. He snorted again.

“You better fuckin’ tell me who else was in that video.”

_Mix the truth in there_ , Rast told himself. _People will accept a lie if part of it isn’t fabricated_.

“Sir…everyone in class saw that video. _Everyone_. Everyone knows I…they know I’m gay. More importantly, they know I had sex with humans. We _both_ know how-how our kind feels about anthros and humans fornicating. My reputation at this school is probably ruined now. No one will _ever_ forget this. Considering all the trouble I’m already in, why would I lie about not knowing these two people?”

Rast stared at Mr. Dyedar’s scowl, forcing himself to remain emotionless. There was a brief pause, and then the rhino exhaled as he leaned back in his chair again and started to relax. Rast calmed down as well now that everyone else inside the office realized that arguing and screaming over the incident wouldn’t resolve the situation. Eventually, Mr. Dyedar huffed and rubbed his forehead.

“Okay…we’ll try to figure out who sabotaged the campus’ computer systems and hacked into our database. And we’ll also get around to figuring out who shot this video. You just stay away from school perimeter until this ‘incident’ is dealt with.”

Rast nodded slowly. “Okay.”

_Say “thank you,” Rast. People like it when—_

“Now get the fuck out.”

Rast stood up from his chair and quickly left the office.

___________________________________________

“Fuck.”

Rast breathed heavily as he stood near the urinal and finished peeing. The rat zipped his pants back up and took a few deep breaths.

“Fuck.”

The black rodent paced back and forth, rubbing his paws together and licking his yellow teeth, his heart beating fast as he tried to process the whole situation. 

“Fuck. Fuck…okay…okay…okay—fuck.”

Rast walked out of the bathroom and inhaled deeply, putting his paws in his pocket as he went for the front door. He wandered through the corridor and came across a few students who seemed blissfully unaware of the video that had been leaked. A few humans and anthros alike snickered at Rast as he moved towards the front door. Someone even went as far as pulling a condom out of his pocket and waving it near Rast’s face, explaining how Rast would need one so he wouldn’t catch some disease. 

“Fuck…fuck,” he murmured.

“Yeah, seems like you did a lot of that last night!” said one male cervine.

Rast rubbed his forehead as he walked outside and stepped into the sunlight and fresh air. As he stepped outside, he turned and looked at the campus grounds. The parking lot was just up ahead, and a few students were heading to their cars and going home. The country’s flag was fluttering gently from the flagpole, showing off its yellow and red stripes and the symbol of a serpent’s tongue in the center of the cloth. Rast looked at the flag and snorted.

“Fuck.”

“Hey…Rast?”

The rat turned around as he saw a dark-skinned man walk out of the building. He rubbed behind his left ear and frowned.

“You…look, I’m sure it’s not as bad—”

“Fuck off, Michael,” Rast scowled.

“I know you’re—”

“FUCK OFF!”

Michael stared at Rast’s snarl and slowly backed away. Rast watched as the man disappeared into the building, and then the rat turned away and walked down a set of stairs and into the parking lot. He whimpered as he rubbed his chin and huffed.

“Fuck. Fuckers. Fucking…fuck.”

_Stop saying that_ , Rast told himself. _You’re gonna make a scene._

“Fuck.”

_Shut up, Rast._

“Fuck…oh, fuck,” Rast said, his voice cracking and his eyes watering.

_Be quiet, Rast. You’re gonna make a scene. People don’t like it when you make a scene._

“Fuck!”

_Shut up. People don’t…they don’t…_

“FUCK!”

Rast sobbed as he felt his eyes burning with tears. He could hardly see with his vision so blurry. Rast whined as he grabbed his head and crouched down. And then he made two fists as he moaned and dug his claws into his paws.

“FFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKK!!!” he shrieked.

He didn’t care anymore. He didn’t care if anyone was watching or recording him again. He didn’t even care if the incident would lead to him being expelled for good. The rat swore noisily again, his voice heard throughout what used to be a quiet parking lot. And then Rast moaned as he fell to his knees and started crying, no longer worried about what anyone thought about his public image.

_Fuck everyone_ , thought Rast.

_Fuck ‘em all._

___________________________________________

Rast burst into Porky’s diner, almost kicking the door open with rage. Still breathing heavily, the rat sniffled and wiped his face before he shut the door and looked around the diner. It was a lot quieter than usual, but the typical employees were still here. As always, the feline from the other day greeted him with a smile. Rast just squinted at her.

“Hello again, Rast! How—”

“Where’s Seamus?” he asked, interrupting her.

The feline stammered, caught off-guard by the question. “Err, he’s in his office. I wouldn’t disturb him; he told me this morning he’s been having bowel issues again.”

Rast didn’t care. He shoved the waitress out the way and stomped over to the door that only employees could use. He pushed it open, shoving away the cook in the back who was using the grill. Sniffing the air, Rast was able to detect Seamus’ disgusting scent easily, and found his office in only a matter of seconds. The rat reached down and grabbed the door’s handle. He opened up the door and took a few steps inside, and then scowled when he smelled the air and saw Seamus’ oversized pink behind that was caked in hair and had dried fecal matter between his buttocks. Rast heard faint squishing, and Seamus was panting frantically as he stood in front of a laptop. The rat snorted and slammed the door, causing Seamus to yelp.

“SHIT! Damn-damn it, pup!”

Seamus quickly stopped and pulled up his dark blue jean shorts. He turned around and exhaled, rubbing some sweat from his forehead. Rast just pinched the bridge of his muzzle and exhaled.

“Was I interrupting something?” Rast asked, already knowing the answer.

Seamus chortled and slapped his gut. “Yeah, pup! Was gettin’ a good fap in to your sex tape! Didn’t know you made those in your spare time!”

Rast lowered his paw and his eyes widened again. “What?”

Rast walked over to the laptop and looked at the video Seamus was observing. It was the same one that played in his psychology class, although Rast could see that Seamus was on some kind of pornographic website.

“You got a big ol’ ass, pup! Hehehe, you squeal real good too!”

Rast closed his eyes and twitched. And then he reached forward and closed the laptop gently. The rat let out a shuddering breath before he turned around and looked at the corpulent beast.

“That…that video. It-it wasn’t…”

_No_ , said Rast. _No more. Fuck it all. Fuck everything._

“What is it, pup?”

_Tell him. …Shit, no, don’t tell him; the cops could question him._

“I…I…” Rast rubbed his paws together. And then he chuckled and clapped his paws once. “I need a favor!”

Seamus shrugged. “Okay. What is it?”

“I…heh. I need some ketamine.”

Rast stared at the pig’s large grin. “Ketamine? You, uh…you know what that is?”

“I need it. And I know you got it. I recall that ‘stash’ you tried to offer me last month?”

Seamus just snorted for a moment before he exhaled and walked over to his desk, which also had various magazines on it that were old and sticky with dried-up fluids. Rast watched as the pig tossed the magazines on the floor and reached down into his shorts to scratch his rump. He snorted again and pulled open a drawer that was filled with all sorts of narcotics. Seamus murmured to himself as he shoved aside a bag of cocaine and marijuana, and then came across a small bottle of fluids with the letter “K” printed on it.

“All right, got it! You want the whole bottle or you want me to load up a syringe?”

“Just gimme the whole bottle.”

Rast held out his paw as Seamus tossed the container at him. He caught the bottle and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans before growling and looking at Seamus again.

“Also that warehouse you used to own? The one that got closed down? I need its address.”

“Why?”

Rast paused. “Gimme the address, Seamus.”

“Not until you tell me what you need it for.”

_Remember, Rast. Mix the truth with the lie. It’s easier._

“I’m…I’m making a film, Seamus! Me and two other students. We need a big abandoned building to shoot it. Somewhere secluded, far away from the noise of the city. A place where no one would find us. Or hear us, Seamus…you get me?”

Rast waited. He knew what kind of person Seamus was, but he wasn’t sure how much he could read Rast. Part of him wanted to wink or grin, but that would be too much. So he stood still and breathed softly, waiting for Seamus’ reply. Eventually, the pig nodded, and he walked over to his desk. He grabbed a pen and a notepad and scribbled down the address. Then he walked over to Rast and handed him the small note.

“Here ya are.”

“Great. I also need one of your vans too.”

Seamus shook his head. “Can’t do that. You ain’t an employee of Hogs ‘n’ Cutlets, so I can’t help you unless you suddenly decide to work in my shops.”

The pig rubbed his scalp. “Course, if you were to ‘borrow’ a van, I could easily buy another one. And if you were to find a key to said van, which I do not keep hidden in my stash of porn, then no one would be around to stop you.”

Rast frowned while Seamus grinned. _Fucker_ , Rast thought. The rat exhaled as he bent down and sifted through some of the magazines Seamus threw on the floor, grimacing when he noticed that several pages were stuck together. Eventually, he found a small key in-between a few pages, and the rat placed it inside his pocket as well.

“Thanks, Seamus.”

“Mm. Have fun with this ‘film’ of yours. Maybe you can show it to me once it’s finished!”

“Ehhhh, you wouldn’t like it.”

Seamus snorted and leaned forward, getting in Rast’s face. “You do realize who you’re talking to, correct?”

_Someone who’s been eating a lot of onions and drinking too much beer._

“Hehe, your breath ain’t so fresh either, pup. Least mine don’t stink of funky cheese.”

_Oh my god_ , Rast thought. _I said that out loud._ Rast grumbled as he scratched his face and turned away.

“Are you _sure_ you wanna see it, Seamus?”

“Absolutely. I’ve always been a fan of filmmakers! Would love to see what that devious mind of yours concocts.”

And right then, at that very moment, Rast knew that everything would change. There was no going back now, not with that sex tape out in public. He wanted to do this. He _needed_ to do this. The black rat stared at Seamus, and then grinned widely.

“I’ll let you know when it’s done.”


	3. Popped

_Grin_ , Rast thought. _They can’t see you…they’re too stoned to notice._

“Mmf…R-rast…Rast?”

“Shhh, be quiet,” the rat whispered as he looked at Dante in the passenger’s seat. “Just another fifteen minutes, and you’ll be home.”

He was going to do it. The rodent was almost giddy with excitement. He had all the equipment ready, all the proper tools and necessities that would result in his plan going off without a hitch. Rast looked in the back of the van and could see Tomas sleeping beside all the equipment. Rast chuckled and rolled his tongue around his mouth, still tasting the stale beer from the bar. He looked down at his clothing: black pants, black hoody, black belt, and he had some gloves stuffed in his pockets. All of it was disposable. No evidence would remain—nothing leading back to him anyway. If anything, Seamus would take the fall; this was his company’s van after all. And if anyone asked where he was, he’d just tell them he left town for a while to get away from all the harassment. In hindsight, Mr. Dyedar suspending him only helped his situation; he had a perfect alibi as to why he had been absent from school.

“Rast…mf sick…pull over…”

“Ten more minutes, hon. Then I’ll let you out.”

Rast wasn’t lying to the young man. After ten more minutes of driving, he was out of the city and in the industrial district. Rast sniffed as he slowly turned off the main road and drove along a dirt path. He licked his teeth as he drove past the various burnt cars and discarded pallets, heading towards the giant warehouse that was a mile out. By the time Rast reached the giant warehouse with broken windows and rust staining all the nearby machinery and pipes, the rat was almost laughing with joy. He told himself to keep his composure; getting overexcited would lead to mistakes. He already did that when he had sex with Dante and Tomas and ignored the phone they positioned on his dresser. The rat reached a set of huge, dark green double doors and hopped out the van so he could go open them. Then he got back in the van, drove inside, and shut off the vehicle’s engine. Once all that was done, Rast shut the door and started examining the warehouse.

“Okay…right there…put that there…good,” Rast said as he pointed around the empty warehouse.

The warehouse was two floors, and mostly consisted of wide open spaces, several concrete pillars, empty oil drums, and various catwalks. Just to ensure he was truly alone, Rast explored the entire warehouse, scoping out the catwalks and even the abandoned foreman’s office that was on the second floor. Certain he was by himself, Rast went back down and got to work. He slipped on his gloves, moved a few tables around, and hauled the two men out of the van. Rast struggled to move both men, but eventually he was able to shove them against two of the tables, where he promptly undressed both of them and tied restraints around their hands and feet. After he did, Rast went back to his van and pulled out an assortment of vile instruments he bought at a home improvement supplies store and set them on a third table away from Dante and Tomas.

“All right…okay,” Rast told himself. “Now…here we go.”

Rast went back into his van and grabbed a video camera complete with a stand. He set the camera behind the two men perfectly before he laughed softly and undressed. Once all three of them were naked, Rast turned on the video camera, seconds before he pushed the record button.

___________________________________

By the time Rast finished, both men were wailing hysterically. Of course, no one could hear either of them—not with the dirty gags he stuffed into their mouths. Drooling and panting uncontrollably, Rast grinned widely as he backed away from Dante’s posterior. He stared at the humans’ anuses that had now been sullied with his semen before he walked over to the men and slowly flipped their bodies over. With their midriffs and groins exposed, Rast walked over to the camera and took it off the stand. He held it firmly and pointed it at their bodies as he walked beside both tables snorting and growling. Rast reached over and removed the gag from the humans’ mouths so they could speak.

“Please…” Tomas begged.

“We-we won’t tell—we won’t tell anyone,” Dante moaned.

Rast listened to both men begging and sobbing, their bodies shaking uncontrollably.

“You won’t tell…ah. Well, that’s too bad. Because this camera here will!”

Their eyes were covered with a bandanna, but the humans instantly knew what Rast was talking about.

“Shit,” Dante whispered.

“What-what do you want? Do you want—”

“What I want…is already happening. Don’t you get that?”

Rast waited for a moment and soaked it all in. He licked his teeth as he slowly moved the camera up and down, scanning the humans’ bodies with his camera. He walked over to Tomas and exhaled as he aimed the camera down at his face. 

“Confess. Tell me what you did. Tell me that you took advantage of me.”

Tomas continued to remain oblivious. “Con…to what? You just-you just fuckin’ raped me. What do _I_ have to confess?!”

Rast grinned. “Faggy Ratty. The newest Internet craze. Don’t you two remember?”

Rast walked over to Dante and climbed onto the table he was laying on. The rat watched as the man tried to move, but he realized too late that his hands were tied. Then the rat crouched down and exhaled in Dante’s face, causing the man to groan.

“Remember? You…you wouldn’t kiss me. My mouth was too disgusting for you…but my ass sure wasn’t.”

 _C’mon_ , thought Rast. _Own up to what you twats did to me._

“R…Rast?”

Rast giggled and nodded, then jumped off the table. “Confess, gentlemen! S’only way you get out of here.”

“You…w-wait, you-you’ll let us go?” Tomas whimpered.

Rast grinned. “I give you my word,” Rast said, gently caressing Tomas’ hair. “I will personally remove your restraints and get you out of this place.”

 _He’s gonna choke_ , Rast thought. _He can’t even try to lie out of this_. Rast kept recording the man, watching as he whimpered and sobbed, his body covered in sweat and grime. Eventually, Tomas took a deep breath and swallowed.

“Okay…we did it. We made the video.”

“Who filmed it?”

“I-I did,” Dante admitted. “Put the thing on your fuckin’ dresser.”

“Good. And who uploaded it?”

“I did,” Dante answered again.

Rast nodded before looking at Tomas. “I’m assuming _you_ sent the file to play in everyone’s e-mail at school, yes?”

Tomas sobbed and nodded quickly. “YES! Okay, we-we did it! There! There, we confessed! Now let us go!”

Rast exhaled. “Oh…it’s that simple. It’s always so simple for us. We say we’re sorry. We say…we say we care. We say, ‘oh…oh, I-I didn’t mean to hurt you. I really didn’t! I shouldn’t have done that!’ But those…”

Rast giggled and wiggled his right paw around, pretending to act like he was a puppeteer playing with a doll dangling from strings.

“Puppets. All of you. Puppets who are controlled by society, by people with a higher authority than you. You’ve…you’ve turned into programs. You say these things—thank you, you’re welcome, I’m sorry, forgive me—you people…you-you say these things, but there’s no _real_ meaning behind them. They’re just words. Phrases.”

Rast walked over to the camera stand and set the camera down onto the stand, making sure it was aimed at the two young men.

“Please…we’re so—”

“Yeeeeeeaaaaahhhh…I know. I know just how ‘sorry’ you two are,” Rast growled as he walked over to the table full of blunt and sharp instruments. He picked up a large box cutter and walked over to the crying Tomas, towering over his naked body.

“I’m sorry too, Tomas. I’m so sorry.”

Rast scoffed as he moved his thumb against the box cutter, releasing the blade with several deep clicking noises.

“I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m sorry I’m about to slice your dick in half!”

“PLEASE!”

“But…but Tomas,” he said innocently. “I’m sorry! Really, I am! That’s all that matters!”

Rast snorted as he placed the edge of the blade against Tomas’ penis.

“ _I’m so sorry, Tomas_ ,” he hissed.

___________________________________________

He had no trouble sleeping that night. He had no trouble disposing of the evidence, or the bodies for that matter. No one would find them, as far as he was concerned. All his weapons were buried or in the river, which would carry all his weapons down into the sea. He burned his clothes, and made sure he rinsed off his body in the shower for over a half-hour. It was all fine. When Rast woke up the next morning, he stretched and yawned like he always did before hopping out of bed and turning on the television. After the TV came on, Rast scratched the back of his head and stared at the breaking news bulletin, hoping that the news wouldn’t report anything about Tomas or Dante.

“…haven’t located the missing citizens yet. Police found the metro bus completely vacant with no signs of struggle. Reports indicate that there may have been at least a dozen or more people on the bus…”

Rast stared at the TV and grinned to himself. No one reported Tomas or Dante missing yet. _Good_ , he thought. _Still got time to get all this sorted out_. Rast turned off the TV before he set the remote back down on the table and rubbed his forehead. Various ideas and thoughts began to go through his head. He kept telling himself that he should lay low for a while, that he should get out of town—get off the planet even, if he could. But Rast knew skipping town would only make him look guiltier. The rat grumbled as he paced back and forth, still wondering how he should make the best of his situation. Suddenly, Rast’s phone rang, and he blinked as he returned to his bedroom and snatched his phone off his dresser. The rodent stared at the caller ID before he sighed heavily and swore to himself. Regardless, Rast answered the phone.

“Hey, Carla. Little early, dont’cha think?”

Rast shut his eyes as he listened to the giddy giggling on the other end of the line. “Early bird and all that! How you been doing?”

Rast paused. “What do you need this time?”

“What are you talking about? I just wanted to see if you had time for some lunch later.”

Rast looked at his calendar. Then he smiled and blinked. _Act friendly and normal_ , Rast told himself. _People like it when you act friendly and normal_.

“Okay, sure. Two o’clock sound good?”

“Yeah, sure. You wanna head to Porky’s?”

“Um…I’d rather not run into Seamus again. You fine with that café off Springald Street?”

“Sure! I’ll see you later then. Bye!”

“Bye,” Rast said.

The rat hung up his phone. And then he swore to himself as he walked to his dresser and pulled a few twenty-dollar bills from beneath his pile of underwear.

____________________________________

Everything seemed the same. It was almost like it never happened. The world was still spinning, civilians were still driving back and forth to work, to the theater, to the shopping mall, and various other places. The sun was still shining down on the city, the blinding reflection visible against many of the skyscrapers’ windows. Rast rubbed his nose as he looked to his left and saw more people eating inside the café, minding their own business. And to his right was the busy street and another city block where various citizens were at a bus stop waiting for the next bus to arrive. Rast stared at three green taxis with a black checkered pattern painted all over the body as they sped by the table he and Carla were sitting at. He gazed into the street and found himself smiling again, for no reason at all.

“Rast?”

Rast was still lost in his mind. He licked his rotting teeth and chuckled quietly.

“Rast, you’re doing it again.”

“Hmm? Oh…sorry. Guess I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Carla huffed as she rolled her eyes. The young rat stabbed some lettuce and cabbage with her fork, all while Rast had barely touched his salad. He started eating shortly after Carla did, although he didn’t rush with his food. After he swallowed a few bites, Rast nodded and rubbed his muzzle.

“What’d they put on this? Mozzarella?”

“Nah, I think it’s that stupid brie shit. Who the hell would name cheese that? That sounds like a person’s name, not the name of cheese!”

_Chuckle, Rast. Carla likes it when you laugh at her jokes._

“Hehe, yeah. Like you’re in college and you shout out, ‘I want a slice of Brie!’ And then you see someone in the class just stand up and go like ‘the fuck?’”

Both rats chuckled with one another. As they continued to eat their salads, Rast went on alert when he heard sirens blaring not far away. Only, the sirens started to get louder. Rast’s heart started to race when he saw the flashing blue and red lights in the distance. There were several of them, and they were coming right for the café. Rast flicked his eyes over at Carla and stared at her. She was still dressed in her light red blouse that had a logo of a full moon with an arrow fired through it, and she was wearing tight pants that showed off her thighs. She looked perfectly normal, just like everyone else. Rast looked down at his clothing and blinked. All he was wearing was a yellow hoody and a pair of ripped jeans. He looked perfectly normal, just like everyone else. _Normal_ , Rast told himself. _Normal…they don’t know. No one knows what you did. No one knows who…what you are. So calm your ass down_.

“You good, Rast?”

“Hmm? Oh, of-of course…”

Rast shuddered when the police cruisers passed by the café. He saw the faint glimmer of the white vehicles with a green stripe going down the center of the police cars. Then he swallowed the bile that was forming in his throat and took a huge breath. Carla chuckled.

“Damn, Rast. The way you’re acting, you make it seem like they were coming after you!”

 _They might have been_ , Rast thought.

“Tch! Nah, not a chance! Only thing I could get arrested for is-is, um, assaulting someone with my odor!”

Carla let out a soft chuckle after hearing Rast’s forced joke. Then she leaned forward and flared her nostrils.

“You actually smell kinda nice today. Since when do you shower?”

 _Since I have to wash evidence off my body_ , Rast murmured to himself. In reality, Rast just shrugged and ate more of his salad, moments before he caught Carla grinning at him.

“You got a date, Rast?”

“Ehhhh…not exactly. Just met someone…two guys. Uh, we…we, uh—”

“Oh my god, you popped your cherry! Oh shit! You finally—”

Rast stammered. “I-I had…fun some days ago. That’s all. But um…uh…”

_Fuck it, tell her. She figured it out anyway._

“It was two guys…humans actually.”

“Holy _shit_. You got in a threesome?! Okay, screw everything else; you’re giving me details.”

“Do you really—”

“You are giving me details _now_.”

Rast grinned at Carla. And then he revealed that night to the other rat. He told her about all the sexual activities they engaged in, about how painful, yet blissful it was, about the large mess he made and how musky his room was when they all finished. He left out how the two men secretly recorded him and posted the video online. Most importantly, he left out how he drugged, raped, and tortured both men to death not long after. Obviously she didn’t need to know _every_ detail, just the ones she wanted to hear. 

“Damn. Mom and Dad would kill you if they found out!”

“Which is why you won’t tell ‘em,” Rast growled.

“Pfft! I don’t talk to ‘em anyway.”

“Is that why you only ask _me_ for money?”

Carla stopped eating and stared at Rast. _Shit_ , he thought. _You let out another outburst. People don’t like outbursts. Apologize._

“Sorry…just…y’know. You still haven’t paid me back.”

“I know,” Carla said, sounding both ashamed and offended. “You know I’m in a tough spot right now, especially in the city. I’m…it’s difficult, bro. Mom and Dad still talk to _you_. They still help _you_ out when you need it. But me, they just…”

“I know, Carla. But you can’t keep relying on other people. You have to find a real job, figure out the best way to save money and shit. That’s how this crap works.”

 _Hmm…lie to her_ , Rast told himself. _Pretend that you give a shit._

“I’m just worried about you,” he started. “I don’t…I don’t wanna wake up one day, call you, and realize you won’t pick up the phone ever again. I like having these conversations…I like this bond we share.”

 _There we go_ , Rast thought. _Be sincere. It’s okay to lie if you’re sincere about what you’re saying. …Shit, wait. That’s a contradiction. …Eh, fuck it. Just grab her paw._ Rast reached across the table and grabbed one of Carla’s paws. He smiled as he rubbed his fingers around her paw, comforting her with his false sense of security. Carla smiled back at him, and the rat exhaled and felt a sense of relief.

“Thank you, Rast…thank you for understanding.”

_Of course I understand. That’s all that matters. I understand what makes people happy. And once they’re happy, they’ll shut their damn mouths and leave me alone._

“Of course, Carla.”

Both rats talked about regular everyday events and recent news stories they saw online or on the TV as they finished the rest of their salads. Once they were done, Rast offered to pay for their meals. Afterwards, Carla reached over and hugged Rast before she said her goodbyes and hailed a taxi cab. Rast forced himself to smile. He forced himself to wave at her. And then he watched as the car drove away, moments before Rast grumbled and swore to himself. _Don’t do it, Rast_ , he told himself. _Don’t do it. Killing your sister will not help you one little bit. Mother and Father will ask questions. The cops will ask questions. Just put up with her constantly leeching off your ass for money and attention. The last thing I need are the cops…_

“Fuck…oh god, the cops…”

Rast’s eyes widened. The police officers he saw earlier were driving in the same direction as his apartment.

“FUCK!”

Rast quickly sprinted to his car, got inside, and drove back to his apartment complex.

______________________________

Once Rast got home, he slammed his front door shut and locked it. Panting, he sprinted into his bedroom and immediately got on the floor, grunting and swearing as he picked at the floorboards. The rat grunted as he knocked on the wood multiple times and listened to the loose planks that were positioned near his mattress. Using his claws, Rast grunted and removed three pieces of wood very slowly, revealing a small hidden space where he had stashed his camera. Feeling relieved, Rast shut his eyes and let out a harsh breath. Then he reached down and removed the camera before checking to make sure that no one had removed his tape.

“Shit…shit,” Rast murmured to himself.

He knew he shouldn’t have panicked; there was crime all over the city. Just a week ago, someone within his apartment complex was arrested for attempting to stab his girlfriend to death. _Of course the cops aren’t coming to my apartment_ , Rast told himself. _No one’s found the bodies. No one will ever find the bodies._ After Rast got his breath back and calmed down, the rat opened his camera and played his video again. He smiled softly to himself as he watched and relived the events that took place, causing his body to tingle and grow warm. He licked his gums and growled softly before he stopped the video and turned on his laptop. The rat connected the camera to his computer with a USB cable and transferred all the video’s data over to his laptop. Then he removed the cable and stuck a flash drive in the laptop, where he stored the video file on the flash drive. Once the data had been transferred, he removed the flash drive and shut off his laptop, exhaling. When the rat stood up, his phone rang again. But this time around, he ignored the call and went back to focusing on his personal project. Rast looked through his backpack and found a series of labels. He took them all out and placed them on his desk. He peeled one off and gently placed it on the back of the flash drive. Then the rat smiled as he scribbled a roman numeral on the label.

“There we go,” he muttered.

When Rast finished with the flash drive, he tossed it up and down in his paw and snorted a few times. Then he reached over underneath his bed and took out a secondary green laptop. After booting it up, he quickly logged in and grinned as he started looking at various illegal websites on the dark web.

_May as well see where I can sell this._


	4. Red Pill

Rast looked at the address scribbled down in his notepad and exhaled. It was dark outside, and half the other names on the list had been crossed out already. He felt a cold wind blowing against his fur and looked around, double checking to ensure that nobody was watching. Then again, why would it matter? As far as anyone knew, he was just some lanky black rat dressed in some dusty jeans and a green hoody. Rast looked up at the sign hanging above the store in front of him that read “BIG PIGGIES” in golden neon. And when Rast looked through the glass door, he frowned. There were shoes everywhere.

“Goddamn it,” he snarled.

Rast shoved the tiny notepad back into his pocket and shook his head. He had been running around trying to find this alleged place since morning. More importantly, he had left his apartment open for the cops to find; three times already he saw police cruisers speeding to his apartment complex. But after the scare last week, Rast told himself that he had all his tracks covered. _This is the last shop_ , Rast told himself. _Then I’m getting some takeout_. Taking in a huge breath, Rast walked forward and pushed open the front door. A bell went off, and Rast was immediately hit with the scent of leather, synthetic materials, and rubber. All sorts of footwear was located inside the shop, either placed on shelves, placed on display tables, or set on small, plastic stands that were hanging from the walls. Rast scowled as he looked at all the sandals, sneakers, loafers, and house shoes that had filled the entire building. He put his paws in his pockets and murmured, hoping he’d be able to burn this whole store down one day.

“Abominations, these fuckin’ things,” he told himself.

“Hello, sir! Welcome to Big Piggies!”

Rast went on alert and he took his paws out of his pockets. And then his eyes widened when he looked at the employee walking towards him. He was a huge brownish-gray shark with a white underside who somehow stuffed himself into a yellow dress shirt that was able to fit his size and a pair of black slacks. Rast instinctively took two steps back, intimidated instantly. The employee looked like he spent the last year bodybuilding; he wasn’t overly muscular, but his body was wide, and Rast could see just how buff his arms were. He even had a thick gut on him, and his distended stomach bulged a little past the waistband of his trousers. Rast stammered when the shark, who was seven feet tall, stood in front of Rast. He looked down at the rat, smiling tenderly.

“How may I help you?”

Rast swallowed again. He looked at the shark’s gills on each side of his neck, the gills gently moving on their own. His eyes were small and turquoise, but ultimately looked kind. He smelled like he had put on some expensive cologne, and Rast admitted that it was somewhat alluring. But something seemed off about the shark, and Rast wasn’t sure what. The rodent stood up straight and tried his best not to show any fear.

“Uh, yeah…a friend told me he wanted some new sneakers, but I…I’m not sure what to get him.”

“Ah, I see. Does your friend have a preference?”

Rast nodded. “Something from Earth. I hear the Nike and Adidas brands were popular over there.”

“Indeed they were! We have plenty of choices to choose from over here,” he said, guiding the rat over to the other side of the store.

Rast kept observing the shark, watching how he moved his sleek thick tail, how his heavy, giant feet made a faint thump against the floor with each step he took, how he was still smiling almost the entire time.

“Here ya are! Nikes and Adidas! Do you need any more help?”

“Well…my friend is into warm colors, y’see.”

“Oh? Does he prefer red, orange, or yellow?”

“Yellow.”

There it was. When Rast answered, the shark’s smile slowly dropped. He blinked twice and stared at the rat, shortly before he leaned forward, nearly pressing his snout in Rast’s face.

“Are you _sure_ it’s not a different color? I wanna make sure you get the right product.”

Rast scrunched up his face. He couldn’t help himself. Up close, Rast could tell that the shark’s true scent was buried beneath all the cologne. His body faintly smelled of slimy, spoiled fish, and his breath stank of hot garbage and carrion. The shark flared his nostrils and stepped forward. Rast stepped back.

“Um…yeah, yeah. It-it’s the right kind of shoe—”

“Because I want you to know, once you buy these shoes, there’s no refund. Sorry, company policy.”

Rast couldn’t take it. He waved a paw in front of his face multiple times. “Could you please back away? Your breath stinks!”

The shark snorted at Rast, shortly before he backed up and promptly stood straight up. The shark actually exhaled into his hand and sniffed his breath, and then looked at Rast with self-consciousness. He scratched his nape where his dorsal fin was located and chuckled.

“Eh…I’m sorry about that, sir. Heh, you know how we sharks are! We could wash our mouths out for hours straight and it’ll still smell like we ate roadkill.”

Rast smirked. “Yeah, well. Better than eating all the shit they serve in these restaurants, eh?”

It happened again. For a brief moment, Rast saw the shark’s eye twitch. He frowned, and then looked at the entrance and swore quietly. Rast remained still while the giant fish walked over to the front door and changed the sign so that it read they were closed. Then he reached over and shut off the main light, seconds before stomping over to Rast again.

“Did I get it right? I thought I forgot—MMPH!”

The shark covered the rat’s mouth and grabbed him with a hand big enough to cover his entire face. Rast mumbled as the shark dragged him into the back rooms, and then he shut and locked the door. Afterwards, the shark shoved Rast over against a desk, causing the rat to shout as he knocked over a few DVDs. The rat turned around and looked at the desk, taking note of the various collections of DVDs, along with the crude sex toys and instruments one would normally see within a sex shop. Rast huffed a few times while the shark stomped towards him and banged a fist against the desk.

“Who told you? Huh? Who told you the code?”

Rast stammered. The shark was scowling now, showing off all of his uneven, razor-sharp teeth that could draw blood if someone poked them. He chuckled.

“I-I was…I was—usual shit, y’know! I-I found out through the dark web! I was—”

Rast grunted when the shark covered his mouth again. Before he said anything else, the shark immediately grabbed Rast’s hoody and undershirt and tore them off. Rast grunted as his bare chest and stomach was revealed. The shark snorted as he examined Rast’s body, snorting and turning him around before he patted the rodent down. He stuffed his hands inside his pockets and pulled out the rat’s phone, notepad, keys, wallet, and the flash drive containing the video. After gathering all the items and throwing them on the desk, he grabbed Rast’s pants and roughly unzipped them.

“What the fuck—MMPH!”

The shark covered his mouth again. “You shut the fuck up.”

Rast kept looking at the shark, shaking as the giant fish pulled down his pants, and then his underwear. Naked, Rast grunted as he sheepishly covered his groin and lowered his tail. The shark stood up and growled as he examined Rast, growling and groping his body. Moments after, Rast yelped when the shark reached behind him and shoved two fingers deep into his anus. Rast whimpered as he listened to a soft squelching noise, and then he exhaled when the shark removed his fingers. He stepped in front of Rast again before abruptly stomping on his right footpaw. Rast yowled, and then the shark jammed the same fingers he inserted into Rast’s anus into his mouth. Eyes wide, the rat gurgled and retched multiple times, heaving as he tried to get the rotten taste from his mouth. But his body couldn’t handle how roughly it was being abused, nor could it handle the fingers that were brushing against his uvula. When the shark noticed how much Rast was retching, he quickly moved out the way. And then Rast vomited all over the floor, spraying the clean floor with his bile. He tried talking after throwing up on the floor, only to retch and release more puke in front of his footpaws.

“Where’s the bug? Huh?”

Rast coughed and spat on the floor before he shivered and wiped his mouth. He watched as the shark grabbed a metal detector and scanned his puddle of chunky bile, seconds before he stuck his fingers into the sludge and examined a few chunks.

“I’m…I’m not no fucking…I’m not—”

“Put your clothes on.”

Rast exhaled a few times and coughed again before he wiped his mouth. Then the rat grabbed his clothes and put them back on slowly, all while the shark stared at him like he was a piece of prey. When the rat was dressed, the shark snorted and walked backwards, pulling open a drawer.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Rast asked.

“Oh. Well, I’m going to kill you,” the shark started, “unless you convince me why I shouldn’t by the time I finish loading this gun.”

Rast gasped when he saw the shark reach behind his back into the desk. He pulled out a pair of black gloves and started to put them on.

“It-it was—I was looking shit up! Y’know, where—how I could sell shit! I heard about a code! I-I heard about some guy who runs some shop—said if I say the code right, he’ll let me in!”

“That code is old. Useless. That site you went to hasn’t been updated in months—for obvious reasons. Try again.”

Rast stammered. The shark’s gloves were on. “I spent all day looking for this place! I-I went around—I did something! I made a video, okay? First one, you’ll love it.”

“Uh-huh.” The shark took out his gun, a silver pistol that shined beneath the fluorescent lights. Rast kept talking as the shark shoved a loaded magazine into the handgun.

“C’mon, c’mon, that’s it! That’s all! I made a video—I wanna sell it!”

“You want it in the head or in the chest?”

Rast whimpered when he saw the shark twisting a suppressor to the end of the pistol. He held up his paws, legs shaking.

“Look, I’m just a pup in college! Two humans fucked my life; they made a video of me having sex with them and they posted it online and humiliated me! I drugged ‘em, I raped ‘em, I tortured ‘em to death, and I filmed it all! ALL OF IT! It’s great footage—you can make money offa this! Please don’t kill me! PLEASE!”

Rast shut his eyes when the shark pointed the handgun at him. He whimpered and wouldn’t stop shaking, expecting to hear a loud bang before everything went silent. Instead, all he heard was the sound of the lights humming gently in his ears, and the giant beast growling as he decided on what he should do with Rast. Rast opened his eyes after a brief moment of silence. And then he heard the dreaded noise, something he was hoping was just his imagination. But then he glanced down at the floor and realized the trickling sound he heard was indeed real. Rast groaned with embarrassment and lowered his paws as he shook some of the urine from his right footpaw. The shark put his gun into his pocket.

“Suppose I should be glad you didn’t shit yourself.”

Rast exhaled as he stepped out of the puddle he left on the floor and rubbed his forehead. “Oh god…oh thank you, thank you—”

Rast grunted when the shark punched him in the jaw, nearly knocking one of his rotten teeth loose. The rat stumbled and bumped into a giant metal shelf and groaned as he rubbed his mandible.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You’ve any idea how stupid that was, coming into my shop and saying that code?!”

Rast scowled. “I’m sorry, uh, weren’t you just about to murder me?”

“That’s not the point. Fucking youngsters—it’s always your kind screwing up these operations. How hard is it to follow the fucking rules?!”

“Okay, I get it. I took a risk, but it-it panned out!”

Breathing heavily, Rast watched as the shark snorted, the gills on his neck moving slowly. He blinked as he looked at Rast and folded his arms.

“What’s your name, pup?”

“Rast Racklyn.”

“Mm. How old are you?”

_Dodge it_ , Rast told himself. _He don’t gotta know that shit._

“That’s not important.”

“Mm. What college you go to?”

“That’s not important.”

“Where you live?”

“You want the fucking video or not?”

Rast stared at the shark and noticed that he was smirking with confidence now. _He’s testing me. Just answer all of the bastard’s questions and get him to buy the video_. The shark chuckled as he walked over to Rast and wagged his thick tail. The rat had to look up as the shark towered over him.

“Okay. So you’re not a _complete_ moron. Doesn’t mean you won’t end up screwing up my business.”

“Everything’s legit…I-I got rid of all the evidence. No one will ever find the bodies, I swear.”

“Uh-huh. You been getting sick, pup? Been throwing up a lot? Having nightmares?”

“I told you, those assholes ruined my reputation and got me suspended. I don’t give a fuck about killing them.” Suddenly, Rast exhaled and flicked his eyes to his right. “I don’t wanna go to jail though. Hard not to think I fucked up when I see police cruisers heading in the same direction where I live.”

The shark scoffed. “You just gotta let them balls hang and you’ll be fine.”

Rast scratched his face before he pointed at the flash drive on the desk. “Could you watch the video now?”

“All right.”

So Rast stood alongside the shark as he pulled open his personal laptop and plugged the flash drive into the computer. He quickly found Rast’s video and stood with folded arms as he watched everything that took place. Rast found himself grinning widely and looking away sheepishly when he felt an erection forming in his damp pants. But the shark remained stoic, only blinking occasionally or sniffling as his gills moved. When the tape ended, the shark removed the flash drive and tossed it up and down in his right hand.

“I see you’re…quite proud of your work,” the shark said.

Rast knew what the shark was referring to, and he grumbled as he tried to hide his erection. He stammered and cleared his throat. “S-so it’s good? It’s good, right?”

“Yes, it’s _good_.”

Rast noticed the emphasis. “What does that mean?”

“Means I’ve seen better. This is adequate, at best. But nowadays, people seem fine masturbating to trash, so I’m sure lots of people will love your video. Plus you didn’t cover your face. That’s a double-edged sword there; lotta customers find it ballsy when you show your face. Then again, if the cops see this video? You’re screwed.”

“I couldn’t buy all those tools on top of ski masks. That would’ve been _way_ too obvious.”

“Paid in cash?”

“Yes.”

“No one recognized you?”

“No. Besides, there’s plenty of black rats in the city. I didn’t start the video until _after_ I got naked.”

“So there’s absolutely _nothing_ connecting you to this?”

“No. Not even the van I used to dispose of the bodies. I borrowed it from a friend who just so happens to own a butcher company. So if the cops find it, all the blame will be put on him.”

Rast noticed the shark go on alert. He jerked his head towards him and shot him a menacing glare. “Is this butcher a pig, by any chance?”

“Errr, yeah? Seamus Osgranov.”

“Fucking hell,” the shark groaned, rolling his eyes.

“I take it you two know each other.”

The shark huffed. “Yeah. He’s a giant shit-stain on my underwear. Everytime I try to wash it off…” The shark exhaled and shook his head. “Should just kill that asshole and be done with it. Does he know about this?”

Rast shook his head. “Um…should he?”

“Absolutely not. He’s gonna weasel his way into this shit if he finds out; I do not have time to deal with that fat fuck _again_.”

The shark shut his eyes and huffed as he pinched the bridge of his snout. “Fucking hell…do you know about his activities, by any chance?”

“Besides owning a diner and a bunch of butcher shops?”

Rast frowned when the shark turned and grinned at him, looking like he wanted to eat him alive.

“You’ve no idea, do you?”

“What?”

Rast backed away when the shark approached him again. He leaned down and growled deeply in Rast’s face, causing the rodent to scowl again when he smelled his foul breath.

“You’ve no fucking idea…about this city. Do you?”

“I just…I just made a video and wanna sell it. That’s all.”

“No. You ever notice this stink in your house that’s just…it’s always hanging? And then when you finally find the source, you realize that it’s the entire fuckin’ house that stinks cause there’s mold in every inch of the building?”

The shark exhaled, making Rast scrunch up his face again. “I’ll give you a chance, Rast. Since I’m in a good mood and all.”

Rast watched as the shark backed away and pointed at his door. “Walk away. Now. You do _not_ wanna get caught up in this. You’re too young. Too inexperienced. That puddle of piss you left on my floor proves that. You’re about to walk into a mountain of shit, and you’ve nothing to scoop it up with except for a plastic spoon. S’a gonna get _all_ over you, pup. The stink ain’t ever gonna wash off. You ain’t ever gonna get clean again. Do you hear me, pup? You don’t want this.”

Rast looked at the shark’s grim smile and scowled. He looked at the door stoically and blinked, telling himself that the smart thing to do would be to leave right now. But then Rast pondered even further, and he realized that the wiser decision would be to stay. He walked up to the bulky fish and smirked at him.

“See…no. I want this. I _need_ this. All my fuckin’ life, people tell me, do this, do that. And I’ve done this. And I’ve done that. They say ‘the key to success is happiness’ or some bullshit like that. And I just…I ain’t happy. Twenty-eight years, and I’m still not happy. I-I walk around…and I’ve turned into a robot. That’s-that’s what society wants—it doesn’t want people, it wants robots on an assembly line churning out the same shit day after day after day.” Rast sucked on his teeth. “Can’t do it. I’m not sorry; I can’t keep walking around with a fake smile on my face, with this cheerful attitude. People also say you should leave a legacy behind…well, how can I do that, when I’m currently nothing more than a gray, blank slate? I’m the same as everyone else.”

Rast took a few deep breaths before he pointed at his flash drive. “But then I made that. _I_ made that. Had no help. Had very little planning. Yet somehow…I made this wonderful work of art in the span of one night. And sure, yeah, it ain’t no giant statue of some philosopher. It ain’t no _Mona Lisa_ painting. But I’m proud of it. And you know what? I-I felt…I was happy. Ecstatic even. I didn’t know I was…capable of doing such things, but now that I’m aware? Hehe, I wanna do it again. I _will_ do it again. And again. And again. And I’m never gonna get bored of it. Because for once in my life, I’m doing what _I_ want, what makes _me_ happy. And if that means I gotta run around kidnapping, raping, and murdering innocent people?”

Rast leaned against the shark’s desk and shrugged. “Fuck it.”

_He’s impressed_ , Rast thought as he looked at the shark’s grin. _Perhaps I finally convinced him_. After the long speech the rat gave the shark, the giant fish set the flash drive down and walked up to him.

“You’re serious,” he said. “This is all…you _do_ want this.”

“Absolutely. And even if I didn’t, there’s no blue pill here. The second I walked in this store, the moment I said that code to you, that was it. You had no intention of letting me walk outta here; not unless I decided to work with you. You damn near shot me about fifteen minutes ago. Even if I walk out that door right now, I won’t get far enough to make it into my bed tonight. I don’t feel like dying just yet, so I guess I’m working with you, aren’t I?”

The shark nodded and grinned. “I guess so.”

Rast rubbed his muzzle and sniffed. “Good. So. You got a name, or am I just gonna call you ‘the shark’ the entire time?”

“Douglas Kevro.”

“Mm. Okay, Doug.”

Rast raised his right paw and looked at the palm of it. Then he spat into said paw and reached out, expecting the shark to shake it. Doug paused for a moment, and then he chuckled and spat into his right hand. Both creatures shook hands as they grinned at one another.

“We’re gonna enjoy working together, I can tell,” said Doug.

“I’m sure we will,” Rast responded.

After the two shook hand and paw, Doug nodded and gestured for the rat to leave. Once he did, Rast calmly walked out the store with a grin on his face, plotting his future events to come.


	5. Pig

He snored deeply as he slept in the bed, not caring about all the complaints he got at the diner, or about his current employers harassing him about future shipments. All that mattered was getting his precious sleep in, no matter the costs. He snorted a few times as he lied in his bed, only clad in his sweaty underwear as he lay sprawled out on the mattress. Feeling his stomach groaning, the creature snorted a few times and stirred in his sleep, mumbling. _Fuck it_ , he thought. _Don’t feel like it_. Some seconds later, the pig loosened his bowels, and then exhaled as he went back to drooling and snorting into his pillow. That all changed when he heard noisy banging on his front door.

“SEAMUS!”

The pig’s eyes shot open, revealing lots of sleep and moisture. The corpulent beast groaned as he rolled around on his mattress, seconds before he placed his big feet on the floor and cracked his back. He sniffed the air a few times but disregarded the stench of his bedroom and promptly limped his way towards the front door. He kicked away all the discarded beer cans, pizza boxes, and dead cockroaches before he grunted and reached for the door knob. He opened it up, and exhaled when he saw a burly polar bear standing in his doorway scowling at him.

“Fuck you been doin’?”

Seamus was wearing nothing but a pair of white boxers with red stripes on them. He groaned as he picked at his belly button and slapped his sagging gut.

“Sleeping. Gaining weight. Usual. Either come in or fuck off.”

Seamus stepped aside and let the bear enter his apartment. Then he shut and locked the door, and exhaled as the bear looked around his apartment with disgust.

“Look, Seamus, I know you’re a pig and all, but…” Seamus watched as the bear flared his nostrils. And then he gagged and covered his entire muzzle with both paws.

“GOD _DAMN_! Did you shit yourself again?!”

“Whuh?” Seamus reached behind and grabbed his posterior. He noticed something chunky was inside his boxers and blinked, then shrugged. “Eh. Guess so.”

The bear coughed as he rushed over to Seamus’ window and opened it up. “Fucking Christ, Seamus. Either use the toilet like everyone else or go back to wearing diapers!”

Seamus grumbled. “Did you come here to lecture me on my bowel movements?”

Seamus watched as the bear groaned and started fanning the air in an attempt to shove the stink outside. “No, dumbass. Remember Peyton and his thugs?”

Groaning, the pig grabbed his head. “The fuck do those niggers want now?!”

“They know about your stash, Seamus. Now they think you’re some kind of drug lord. I told your ass to stop passing that shit around to your friends!”

Exhaling, Seamus said, “Fuck ‘em. I’ll add ‘em to next week’s shipment.”

“That’s the other problem. Your shipments have been getting lighter, Seamus. Maynard and all them other aliens ain’t pleased. You know damn well—”

Growling, Seamus walked over to the bear and snorted. “I know, I know! I’m past the point of fucking lectures, Wayne! I don’t need you lecturing me on my bowel movements or my cleaning habits or my health or my weight or how _I_ run _my_ business that _you_ work for!”

After Seamus yelled at Wayne, the bear did what he always did. Seamus saw it coming but he kept his mouth shut. _Don’t you fuckin’ dare_ , Seamus told himself. _I’m not in the fucking mood._

“You’re right. Course I don’t gotta lecture you,” he said, while looking around his apartment. “Seems like you’ve _clearly_ got everything handled. I’ll be on my way now, and leave you here to your _pigsty_. Have a good day, asshole.”

_Motherfucker_ , Seamus thought. He couldn’t talk to him this way. He had no right to. He was his boss, his mentor, the one who gave him his paycheck every week. Seamus’ left eye twitched, and the pig inhaled sharply as Wayne moved away from the window and started to walk to the door. _Uh-uh. Fuck this cock-monkey!_ The pig grabbed the nearest blunt object he could find—a metal lamp—and smacked it against Wayne’s skull. Wayne staggered at first, but then Seamus hit him two more times. Blood splattered out, followed by Wayne collapsing to the floor. After he did, Seamus grunted multiple times as he repeatedly smashed the lamp against the bear’s skull, watching as blood continued to splatter everywhere and got all over the floor, the wall, and his body. By the time Seamus was finished, the panting pig put the lamp down and stared at Wayne’s body. _Oh shit_ , he thought. He wasn’t wearing gloves or any sort of protective gear. This was his apartment. His DNA was everywhere.

“FUCK!” Seamus shouted.

The pig exhaled as he rubbed his head. Without thinking properly, he took off his soiled boxers and dropped them onto Wayne’s head. Then he headed into the bathroom and showered as much as possible, scrubbing off every inch of filth from his body, along with all of Wayne’s blood. Once the pig was done, he walked back out, put on a pair of boxers, gray camouflage shorts, and a black T-shirt. He exhaled as he swatted a few flies away, and then picked up his cell phone and dialed one of his contacts.

C’mon, pick up you shit-stains,” Seamus murmured.

The line clicked, and a feminine voice answered. “Hello, this is Maids Union. How may I help you?”

Seamus flicked his eyes down at Wayne’s body. “Uhhhhh, yeah, I need a cleaner up here. My apartment is a mess!”

“Okay then. Is any heavy lifting required?”

“Oh yes, _lots_ of heavy lifting. Probably someone who could lift a couch, if you catch my drift.”

“I see. Some of our employees are a bit squeamish, as most people are. I’d like to know, are there any bodily fluids that need to be cleaned?”

“Errr, unfortunately. Someone got into a vicious fight. There’s blood everywhere. And, uh, I believe someone thought it’d be a good idea to use my carpet as a toilet. Been trying to get the stink out all morning.”

“Oh dear. That _will_ cost a bit extra, sir.”

Seamus grumbled. “How much will the whole cleanup cost?”

“Well, it sounds to me like you want our Scrubbers Special! Since fluids are involved, along with heavy lifting and disposing of any trash, that costs more than our standard price.”

“So what’s the estimated total?”

“About three thousand.”

Seamus hung up the phone. He looked at the dead bear on his floor, the messy state of his apartment, the various bits of trash and bodily fluids staining the place, and shook his head.

“Nope. Fuck it. Fuck it.”

Seamus kept talking to himself as he walked into his bedroom and took out all the money he had saved from his job. He grabbed his stash from underneath the bed, put some clothes into a duffel bag, and promptly set his handguns and knives into his pockets. Then he opened his closet, grabbed a can of gasoline, and popped it open.

“Fuck it.”

He poured the gas over his mattress that was covered in dead skin and dried semen. Then he poured it all over the floorboards.

“Fuck it.”

He went into his kitchen and drenched his kitchen table and counter in gas.

“Fuck it.”

He walked into the living room and poured gas around his couch, onto his pile of dirty clothes, around his bookcase and nightstand, and directly onto Wayne’s body.

“And fuck _you_.”

When he finished, Seamus sighed as he tossed the can away, grabbed his duffel bag, and pulled out a box of matches. He lit one of them and tossed it onto Wayne’s body, seconds before he shouted when the flames whooshed across the floor. Seamus quickly exited his apartment and panted as he hastily made his way down a series of stairs without even bothering to pull a fire alarm.

_Fuck everything_ , Seamus thought as he walked outside, entered his truck, and drove way.

______________________________________

The fat pig groaned as he stood inside the office of his warehouse, watching as his small crew of employees worked. He flared his nostrils multiple times as he smelled the inside of the area. Rubbing his hands together, Seamus desperately wanted to turn the heat on, but he knew that would spoil the meat, and subsequently ruin another shipment he desperately needed sooner than later. After Seamus heard someone page him over the intercom, the pig groaned and stood up from his chair. He walked past his trashy desk that had leftover food on it and stepped over a couple of beer cans and used tissue paper he failed to dump into his waste bin. Once he opened the door, the stench hit him dead on, and Seamus couldn’t help but smirk. He walked down a set of stairs and got on the ground floor, where he nearly slipped on the cold, wet floor. Seamus ignored the various pools of blood that were dripping from some of the tables and approached some of his employees.

“How we doin’?” Seamus asked as he looked at a butcher.

The bear grunted as he slammed his machete down, severing a human being’s foot from its body. “Lookin’ good. Eh, kinda messy process here though, boss. You sure you don’t want us to clean this shit after we cut it?”

“No. Maynard’s rushing us, so that giant apid gets this meat as is. Fucker can clean it himself after he picks it up.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, Benny, I’m fucking sure. Just keep chopping.”

Seamus looked at the bear as he shrugged and ultimately resumed chopping. He walked around the warehouse slowly, examining the various creatures who were busy hacking apart the human bodies. All the blood and other bodily fluids dripped from the tables onto the floor, where it was all washed down a drain. The hacked parts, meanwhile, were all stuffed into a giant metal crate with wheels on the bottom, so the body parts could be transported later on. Seamus exhaled as he moved past a coyote hastily running a metal crate across the floor, and then approached a shirtless opossum with shedding fur. 

“Hey, Tinlil. How much we pumping tonight?”

The opossum lifted a few sheets of paper on his clipboard before he licked his teeth. “Mmf. Ain’t good, boss. Seems we’re short a couple hundred pounds.”

“FUCK! SHIT!”

Seamus panted and huffed as he paced back and forth, running a fat hand across his bald scalp. His ears flopped a bit on their own before the pig snorted so hard that he had to spit on the floor. He lowered his arms and stared at the opossum, hoping he’d ease his troubled mind.

“Okay, okay, fine. We’ll, uh…Maynard won’t be here until tomorrow. We can stall him until then.”

Tinlil flared his nostrils and scowled. “What do you mean by ‘stall him’?”

“I mean what I said! Just…just get all the flesh chopped up for him tomorrow. I’ll figure it all out by then.”

The opossum nodded. “If you say so. …Oh yeah, what happened to Wayne? Haven’t seen him all day.”

“Think the fucker split on us,” Seamus lied. “Told me those niggers in Brinbark County were giving him trouble and…”

Seamus paused. He leaned against a giant column within the warehouse and thought of a quick solution to both problems. The pig grinned widely, and then he snapped his fingers.

“Get some guys together. Get some guns. Head down to Brinbark and shoot up the place. I don’t care how many humans you kill; just make sure you collect all the bodies, got it? Two birds, one stone, right?”

“What about Peyton?”

“If you see Peyton, take his ass out too. The more, the merrier, right?”

The sweaty, corpulent pig huffed before he moved away from the column and paced back and forth, glaring at his operation and rubbing his chin with frustration.

“You look a bit stressed. What’s going on with you?”

“Tch! Other than my apartment burning down?”

“Yeah, saw that on the news. Said some crackheads spilled some booze and lit the place up, killed about a dozen people. Good thing you weren’t in there!”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” Seamus murmured. “Cops on one side. Bitches on another. Niggers up north. Spics down south. Humans…humans _everywhere_. It’s like I’m getting fucked in my mouth every day and everyone is shooting shit down my throat. How the fuck am I supposed to make a living offa this?”

Tinlil shrugged. “Maybe you should get out. I mean, look at what we’re doing.”

Seamus looked around at the bodies of human beings that were getting hacked apart. One beaver grunted multiple times as he hacked off a woman’s head, while a Dalmatian slowly and meticulously sawed through all of a man’s limbs. The pig snorted and spat on the floor before rubbing his eyes and huffing.

“Someone’s gonna find out, Seamus. If the cops don’t, maybe the humans will. The mayor, the governor, hell, even—”

“You’re not helping, Tinlil!”

The opossum sucked on his teeth before grabbing Seamus and facing him. Seamus looked up at the opossum’s large, white-furred head and black ears.

“You should get out, Seamus. You’re what, fifty-seven now?”

“Fifty-eight.”

“Exactly. I’m still shocked your eating habits ain’t killed ya yet.”

Seamus chuckled and grabbed his fat belly before letting it sag. “Good point. Still…can’t just ‘leave’ this shit, can I? The fuck else am I supposed to do for cash?”

“Panhandle.”

Seamus scowled as he stared at the opossum’s cocky smile. But then Tinlil playfully nudged him and snickered.

“Just fuckin’ with ya. Eh. You’ll figure out some shit, won’t you? You always do.”

“Yeah…” Seamus exhaled. “I always figure shit out.”

Seamus rubbed his hands together for a moment before he nodded and stepped away from Tinlil. More plans were running through his mind, some of which he knew wouldn’t pan out properly if he rushed things. And yet, the pig knew that he had to get rid of all these problems as soon as possible, or else everything would blow up in his face. So Seamus walked away from the opossum before heading for the exit.

“I’ll be back tomorrow when Maynard shows up. Just keep chopping. And get rid of Peyton!”

Tinlil nodded. “Whatever you say, boss!”

_______________________________

Seamus kept his word. He showed up at the warehouse the next night when everyone in the surrounding neighborhoods was asleep. He and Tinlil stood just outside of the giant building, and right beside both of them were several metal crates that were sealed tightly and filled with human carcasses. No one else was at the warehouse; Seamus instructed them to take the night off and to lay low, especially with everything else going on. Between Seamus burning his apartment down, the drive-by shooting at Peyton’s house, and all the missing human beings, Seamus knew it’d be better for him if his associates had a perfect alibi for where they were when Seamus met with Maynard. The corpulent pig wiped his hands against his greasy gray tank-top before he grunted and picked at his belly-button. After he flicked away some dust, the dirt and gravel on the backroad suddenly stirred, and Tinlil and Seamus felt a sudden gust of wind rushing past their bodies. Tinlil swallowed hard as he looked at the pig.

“That them?”

“Sure as fuck sounded like it,” Seamus replied.

The duo only had to wait for a moment before they heard an ominous, deep sound of air rushing, as if a small jet engine was blowing in their ears. Suddenly, the anthros saw a few square prints form in the dirt and grass, almost as though something was flattening them. Seconds later, Tinlil and Seamus heard a strange warbling noise, and a giant spaceship materialized right in front of them. Seamus took a huge breath as he looked at the ship materializing. It wasn’t massive compared to the other starships he had spotted; it only had two turbines, and the spaceship itself merely looked like two wings that were painted with gray and black stripes. And in the center of the ship was a rectangular prism that was almost as long as a standard jet liner. Like the wings, it was also painted with gray and black stripes, and the bottom of the prism had several supports to hold the ship up after it landed. The turbines slowly whirred and died down, and Seamus exhaled as the rear door of the spaceship hissed deeply and began to open.

“Here we go,” Seamus murmured.

Once the door opened up, a brown ramp gradually appeared and touched down into the grass with a hard thud. There was a pause, and then moments later, Seamus heard muffled slurping, snorting, and even a little buzzing. Seconds afterwards, Seamus saw what could only be described as giant bees—or apids, rather—who could walk the same way he did. Four of them all emerged from the spaceship, all carrying what looked like interdimensional weapons that would get Seamus sentenced to death if he was ever caught with them on his planet. The apids were massive, no less than six-and-a-half feet tall, and they had four large, thin wings on their backs. Their legs and arms appeared to have the same anatomy of a human being—just like Seamus’s body—but their heads and abdomen were that of an apid. They had no buttocks or rump; instead, their oversized bee-like abdomen that was big enough to crush a pumpkin hung from where their posteriors would be, complete with a deadly stinger. All the apids were clad in armor as well, with the four that Seamus saw wearing bright green armor with yellow stripes on it. Tinlil took a deep breath while Seamus tried to hide his apprehension as he looked at the giant beasts. One of them walked over to Seamus, their heavy booted feet clomping on the ground, and slurped at him. He fluttered his giant wings before snarling.

“No tricks, pig,” the giant apid snarled.

“I ain’t up to shit. Check the warehouse; it’s clean. And get Maynard out—”

“ _Commander_ Maynard!” the apid shouted.

Seamus rolled his eyes. “Ugh, whatever. Just get his big ass out here.”

The pig snorted as the green-armored apid joined the other creatures and resumed searching around the warehouse. After the brief pause, the opossum and pig looked at the ship and watched as two more green-armored apids came out. They shouted something in a foreign language before stomping towards the warehouse as well. And then he came out, a mammoth-sized apid who was taller and wider than Seamus was. Seamus snorted and folded his arms as the eight-foot-tall, four-armed beast growled and clacked his mandibles together while his antenna moved slowly. Seamus looked at the beast’s red armor with yellow stripes on it and sniffed as the giant apid approached them. He snorted and slurped, releasing slick fluids from his mouth as he greeted Tinlil and Seamus.

“Command Maynard,” said Tinlil, before getting down on one knee and lowering his head.

The giant insect looked at Tinlil and nodded, and then turned and glared at Seamus. Seamus didn’t move. He just scowled at the massive beast and spat at his feet. The burly apid looked at the glob of saliva between his legs and blinked, before he slurped and hissed multiple times. His tongue came out, and the apid emitted a strange noise as he released his own stream of thick saliva all over Seamus’ face and neck. Seamus shut his eyes and spluttered as he started wiping the muck away.

“FUCK!” he shouted.

The commander growled and clacked his mandibles three times. “You insult me, swine. Who gave you the authority to spit in my direction?”

His voice sounded deep and low, but do to all his slurping and sucking, his voice was very watery, and he spoke with a lisp.

“I got my own authority, ass-wipe! So what if I don’t get on my knee? Just take your shit and give me my money.”

Tinlil got back on his two footpaws before he nudged Seamus hard. Seamus grunted and scowled at the opossum before he looked back up at the giant apid. He grimaced as slobber came out of his maw, dripping down in front of his bare feet. Then the giant apid snorted and nodded. He shouted a command at one of his apid soldiers, and the apid fluttered through the air before he arrived and landed on the ground. The shorter apid opened up one of the metal crates, popping off the lid and revealing the assortment of human body parts inside. Seamus watched as Commander Maynard stared at the bloody pool of meat, bones, fat, and other bodily fluids inside the crate. The commander lowered his head and moved his antenna, before sticking out his long, apid-like tongue and taking a long drink of the blood. The pig frowned and rubbed his jaw with worry as the apid slurped up the thick fluids, only to recoil and spit it all back out. He wiped his mouth and groaned with disgust.

“This blood is tainted! I can still taste hints of fat and…” The commander clacked his mandibles. “And acid! What is this trash you are selling me?!”

Seamus shrugged. “You wanted human flesh, you got it.”

“This flesh is not _clean_ , Seamus! I can even see particles, bits of debris—open another crate. NOW!” he barked.

The same apid soldier buzzed and slurped as he walked over to another crate and pried it open. Maynard didn’t even have to walk up to it to tell it was spoiled. He groaned and backed away, swatting at the air as though he was trying to swat away some flying insects of his own.

“And that flesh stinks of gunpowder and feces!”

Seamus shrugged again. “You’re a big boy. Clean it your damn self.”

Maynard snarled as he walked over to the crate and examined the flesh. Seamus observed as the apid pulled out a chunk of a black man’s severed torso. Then the apid removed a crude-looking knife with several curved serrations on it from his armor. He picked at the flesh with the knife, digging at a hole he found. After probing it for a few seconds, he dug out a bullet and snorted.

“Unacceptable. Your shipment is unacceptable, swine!”

Seamus growled. “Look, you wanted twelve thousand pounds of flesh! I gave it to you! Now take your shit and leave!”

“SHIT! Yes, yes, we agree there, pig! You’ve given me nothing but shit tonight! We cannot feed off this! Our queen will not feast on this! This would only make our soldiers ill!”

Seamus shrugged for a third time. “Guess you’re shit outta luck, eh?”

_Shit_ , thought Seamus. _Let me guess: the big baby’s all pissed off now and is gonna throw a fit_. Seamus watched as the oversized winged beast walked over to him and got in his face.

“This is not how business works! We give you money; you give us quality product! End of story!”

“Listen, Commander Maynard,” Tinlil cut in. “We’ve been through a lot. Seamus just lost his apartment. The-the police force here, they’re cracking down on our operation! Irons, Wesley, Dysvin, Grikkor—they all got caught by the cops! And now Wayne up and disappeared! This shit is getting tougher for us and you keep demanding more when we don’t have the means to increase our supply! How are we supposed to get you all this food when we have all these-these handicaps restricting us?”

Maynard spat again, this time at Tinlil’s footpaws. “You shut your mouth. You are only the bitch here; I will not speak to you unless _I_ say so!”

Maynard turned and shoved a big finger against Seamus’ belly, causing the pig to grunt and stumble backwards. “It sounds like you are going through rough times. So…I will take your flesh, swine. And we will clean it ourselves. But you have done this four times now, Seamus. There will not be a fifth. If you fail to deliver, or you give us spoiled meat again—”

“You’ll, what? You’ll spit in my mouth again? Thanks, but, I ain’t scared of nasty-ass bug germs.”

Even with his inhuman face, Seamus could somehow tell that the apid was grinning at him. He stared at the apid’s giant face and frowned, feeling suddenly worried.

“Our queen does not want war. Our queen wants to preserve our planet. But with…a little push, I can get her to send her entire armada to this disgusting planet. Millions upon millions of apids, all filling your skies, tearing down your buildings, sullying your crops with their shit. We will rip apart every single human and anthro we see. We will rape all of your children, fuck ‘em all until they give us offspring. We will burn this entire fucking planet to the ground. Do you hear me, Seamus? _Do you hear me?_ ”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re gonna burn our world up. Whatever.”

“This is the last warning. After that, you will feel the wrath of the Apis Empire.”

Seamus shut his eyes and took a huge breath. And then he swallowed hard, and chose to say nothing. He flicked his eyes at Tinlil and noticed that he was doing the same. _This is too fuckin’ much_ , Seamus thought. The pig stared at Maynard’s soldiers as they put the tops back on the crates and wheeled them all over to the spaceship’s ramp. However, before Commander Maynard left, he snorted at Seamus and blinked twice.

“As punishment for your abhorrent attitude, your inadequate shipments, and for disturbing my body with your foul stench, I will raise next week’s shipment to twenty-thousand pounds.”

“That’s not possible,” Seamus blurted out.

“We-we barely were able to get _this_ week’s shipment! We had to shoot up a neighborhood last night just to get an extra few hundred pounds ready by today!” Tinlil added.

“How you get my meat is not _my_ problem. Get it.”

“You don’t understand, shit-face!” Seamus snarled. “If we take too many risks, we will get caught! We get caught, no more human flesh for you! That means no more humans for your precious fat-assed queen! That means you apids go to war with us!”

Seamus watched as Maynard chuckled, his mandibles spreading as he emitted a disturbing, watery, guttural laugh.

“Good! Faster we destroy this planet, the better!”

“Please! Please, Commander Maynard—give us time! Or-or give us more soldiers, more people to help us with this! Be reasonable! Don’t-don’t you apids got some sense of honor or something?!” Tinlil begged.

Maynard glared at the opossum and grinned. “Your pathetic whining amuses me, fleshling. Hmm…fine. Two weeks. That’s ten thousand pounds per week. More than fair.”

“That’s still not possible!” Seamus protested. “I told you, almost half my fuckin’ crew is missing or in jail! How the fuck—”

“Figure it out,” Maynard snarled. “Two weeks, swine. I had better like what I see.”

Seamus kept his mouth shut again, up until he noticed that the commander hadn’t paid him a penny yet. “Hey…hey, Bug Breath! Where the fuck’s my money?!”

“Oh. That. You gave me an unsatisfactory product. Therefore, your reward shall be unsatisfactory.”

As Maynard turned around, he crouched down slightly with his massive abdomen hovering above the ground. There was a faint grunting noise, and Seamus scowled when he noticed the small anus opening up around the creature’s stinger. Seconds later, a huge wave of warm, yellow fluids gushed out of the commander’s behind, followed by a strange burbling noise. A second wave shot out, and Seamus shouted and backed away as some of the fluids splattered against his toes. Then the commander exhaled as he stood up and turned around, chuckling.

“Here ya are! It’s honey! And it’s of the same quality as the flesh you just sold to me! Eat up,” he snarled.

Seamus didn’t dare touch it. He barely had to sniff the steamy substance before he recoiled and covered his nose with his arm. The giant apid walked onto his spaceship with the rest of his soldiers. Then the back door closed, the ship activated its cloaking device, and the giant aircraft powered up the turbines and took off. Seamus and Tinlil waited until the ship appeared to have taken off and flew away before the opossum sighed with much relief. He looked at the yellow substance on the ground as well and scowled.

“Um…probably shouldn’t eat that,” Tinlil warned. “I don’t think it’s honey.”

“I know what the fuck it is.”


	6. The Three Musketeers

It must’ve been important if the pig had to call him. Rast rubbed his wet nose as he sat inside of the diner and looked down at the fried sausages on his plate. He reached down and messily shoveled the last two pieces of pork into his maw, chewing on the flesh messily as he drooled. He swallowed hard and licked his fingers, moments before he heard a door swing open. The rat blinked as he looked up and spotted—and smelled—the obese pig walking towards him in his nasty tank-top and shorts.

“Hey, Seamus. How you doin’ today?”

The pig exhaled. “Enough of the sappy shit. Step into my office.”

Rast raised an eyebrow. _He doesn’t know_ , Rast told himself. _Even if he did, he couldn’t possibly know it’s me_. The rodent sniffled before he stood up from his booth and followed the giant beast into his office. He stammered and stepped out of Seamus’ way when the pig nonchalantly passed gas noisily and scratched his large buttocks. Rast grumbled as he plugged his nose and walked into Seamus’ office.

“Coulda warned me there,” Rast snarled.

Seamus smirked. “Where’s the fun in that?”

After both creatures stepped into the office, Rast shut the office door and sniffed twice. “So, what’s up?”

“Uhhhh, I’m gonna get right to the point,” Seamus started, rubbing his hands together. “I…um…I need money.”

Rast chuckled. “Everyone needs money. S’what makes Tero go round.”

“I mean I need money now, Rast.”

The rat shrugged. “Can’t help you. Not sure how much you need, but I got my own needs, my own bills to pay, Seamus. Don’t you have money saved up from your butcher company?”

Seamus scratched the back of his head. “It’s complicated. All I know is that I gotta get off Tero. Been thinking about hitching a ride over to one of the moons. Maybe, uh, maybe spend some time over in Zessmen for a while. So…mind helping me out?”

Rast shook his head. “Just told you I can’t.”

Seamus kept rubbing his hands together. “Don’t know if you heard, but, uh, my home burned down! Whole damn apartment building—dozen people died. Barely escaped that shit, y’know!”

Chuckling, Rast shook his head. “Do you want me to say ‘no’ in a different language?”

Rast stared at the pig and blinked. He noticed that Seamus was breaking out into a sweat and repeatedly stroking his chin. He listened as the fat beast chuckled and suddenly grinned.

“Okay. Let me rephrase: you’re _going_ to give me money.”

_Oh great. Now he’s threatening me. I sure do hope he doesn’t torture me with his disgusting farts. So scary._

“And how do you know that?” Rast asked.

Seamus smirked. “I know you made a video. ‘Bout two weeks ago, yeah? You used _my_ van, _my_ warehouse. And then you never brought up what the video was about. Never showed me either.”

“It wouldn’t interest you. I doubt—”

Seamus raised a hand, signaling Rast to be quiet. “Now see…here’s the funny thing. I saw that Faggy Ratty sex tape that was leaked online. And I know how upset you were about all that. Aaaaaand I know that two nights ago, I saw a news bulletin saying that some guys named Dante Meadows and Tomas Richardson have been missing for over a week. Their bodies haven’t been found.”

Rast chuckled nervously. “So-so they went missing. So what?”

Seamus walked up to Rast and kept grinning. He licked his teeth and snorted. “I got three decades on you, pup. You think I don’t know what ketamine does? Van, abandoned warehouse, date rape drug—I’m think you had _lots_ of fun that night! …So what was it? Hmm? Rape video? Huh? Did ya…did you film them naked, make ‘em fuck each other while you beat off?”

Rast backed away and swallowed. “That’s not what happened.”

“Oh! So you gave ‘em golden showers! You humiliated ‘em with rat piss! What’d you do, hmm? Cleveland Steamer? Bondage? Whipping and spanking? Did ya make ‘em soil themselves? Ya make ‘em eat their own shit?”

“What—EW! NO! What the fuck kind of person is into that crap?!”

Seamus scratched the back of his head and awkwardly glanced to the side. “You’d be surprised…”

Rast huffed. “Fuck this. Go rob a bank if you need money so badly.”

Rast felt it coming. He saw the axe hovering above his head, but he didn’t know when it would drop. It wasn’t until he reached for the doorknob when the rope suspending the weapon broke and clunked right against Rast’s scalp.

“All right…no worries. I’ll just…call the police and let them know I last saw these two humans walking around with a dirty-ass rat in a messy hoody and jeans.”

_Fucker_ , Rast thought. He took his paw off the doorknob and slowly turned around, scowling as he stared at Seamus. Rast opened his maw, but Seamus spoke first.

“‘Yes, officer, I-I saw this rat just…just throw these two guys in a van! They looked like they were roughed up pretty bad. I-I’m not—I’m not sure, but…oh god. I-I thought they were just drunk and he was giving them a ride home…shit…I think he might’ve killed them, officer.’”

“…Motherfucker.”

Seamus snickered and patted his plump gut. “S’what I thought. So what’d you do? Who’d you sell the tape to? How much money you make?”

“I…” _Fuck it. He figured it out already. May as well tell him_. “Those fuckers ruined my reputation at college. Some-some of my coworkers saw that fuckin’ video too. So…so yeah. Yeah, I drugged ‘em. Hauled their heavy asses in the van. Then I took ‘em to your warehouse,” Rast continued, lowering his voice, “I got ‘em naked, and I raped ‘em. When I was through…I-I tortured them to death. Cut their cocks in half and sliced open their balls before…” Rast exhaled. “The details don’t matter.”

Rast was surprised at the wide grin Seamus made. The chubby pig opened his mouth and drooled. He expected Seamus to be disgusted at him. He expected the pig to be shocked, afraid, bewildered, or in desperate need of voiding his bowels. But the corpulent beast was acting nonchalant and smug, as if he was proud of what Rast told him. The rat blinked twice as Seamus walked up to Rast and opened up his arms. And then he embraced him, wrapping his burly arms around Rast’s spine and nearly lifting him off his footpaws.

“Mmmf…I’m so proud of you, pup! Yeah…yeah, you must feel sooooooo relieved! Dont’cha feel better, pup? Don’t it feel good ta get all that nasty shit out yer system?”

Rast didn’t even feel like complaining. He didn’t mind Seamus’ body odor or the fact that he was nearly crushing his spine. After listening to the swine’s words, Rast smiled gently, moments before the pig let go. Once he did, Rast chuckled and licked his teeth.

“Yeah…felt real good actually!”

Seamus chuckled and nudged Rast in his right elbow. “Ya make a huge mess? Stink up the place real good?”

_Damn…and here I was worried Seamus wouldn’t understand._ “Bet yer ass I did!”

“Good! That’s real good, Rast! So…‘bout that tape?”

“Right, that. I gave it to some…guy a week ago. He’s supposed to be paying me my cut tonight.”

“Oh? And what ‘guy’ is this?”

Rast inhaled sharply and scratched his nape. “Yeeeeaaaaah…that’s the problem…”

_____________________________________________

Rast and Seamus stood outside the shoe store. The rat stuffed his paws into his ripped jeans as he looked up at the giant golden neon sign spelling out the store’s name. After they stood for a moment, Rast turned around and heard another police siren in the distance. He blinked twice as he saw a large police van with four letters scribbled on the side zooming down the street, along with four other squad cars providing backup. Even Seamus turned around and glared at the speeding patrol cars, and Rast noticed that the pig was shaking to himself. Teasing him, Rast nudged the swine and smirked.

“Think they found your stash,” he joked.

“That’s not funny,” Seamus said, with no hint of sarcasm in his voice.

_Hmm. So Seamus doesn’t like jokes now. Fucking hell—why can’t this pig just act one way so I know what to say to him?_ Rast dropped his smirk and gestured towards the front door. Both of them walked into the store, and once again, the entire place was empty. Rast’s spine curled when the odor of all the shoes filled his lungs, making him scrunch up his face again. But he pushed forward and walked over to the burly tiger shark standing behind the checkout counter, who was now clad in a gray short-sleeved dress shirt and black slacks. Rast nodded as he looked at Douglas. However, the moment the shark looked up and saw Seamus, his expression went from casual and friendly to smug and malicious. Rast flicked his eyes between the bulky fish and the corpulent swine and realized he just placed fire and ice side by side and told them to be friends. 

“Hello there! Welcome to _Fat_ Piggies!”

Rast swore inwardly. Meanwhile, Seamus scowled and immediately pulled a serrated knife from his pocket. The shark reached below his counter and revealed a sawed-off shotgun. He lightly placed it on the counter and stared at both of the customers with the same smug grin.

“May I help you?” Doug asked, still maintaining his kind demeanor.

Seamus played along. “Yes. I’m looking for a pair of boots that can fit inside a shark’s rectum. Got a pair?”

Rast could see that both anthros were dying to kill each other. The rat shoved Seamus aside and got in-between both of them.

“Listen, I know you two…have issues—”

“Why did you bring this _trash_ into my store, pup? Did you forget every-fucking-thing I told you about in terms of discretion the last time we met?”

Rast swallowed. “Doug, I-I had to. He figured out about…about my side project; he threatened to call the cops if I didn’t tell him.”

“You’ve only made _one_ video and you’re already fuckin’ up. Explain what good will come out of working with you, let alone this fat fuck here.”

Seamus grinned widely. “I’d _love_ to work with you, Douglas Kevro! I’d love to strip you naked and plunge my fat cock up that fishy ass of yours, use that mouth as my personal toilet. Heh…you _know_ I got bowel issues. And judging by the smell of your breath, seems like you don’t mind eating shit already.”

Rast looked down at Doug’s hand and could see that he was tightening his grip on his shotgun. Seamus walked closer to the shark and started to lift his knife.

“Okay, look. You’re-you’re both just tense! That’s all. You’re both…frustrated—hungry! Yeah, there we go! And I know of the perfect solution that’ll make us all happy.”

Rast frowned when he noticed a small trail of drool running down Doug’s jaw. He opened his mouth and showed off his various uneven, oversized sharp teeth crammed inside his mouth.

“Really, pup? What solution is that?”

_______________________________

Rast squeaked with joy and thumped his tail inside his booth as he looked at the giant pan of hot, steaming pizza that was placed on the table in front of him. Sitting across from him was Doug, who was staring at Rast with a flat expression as he rested his hands on the table. Seamus was sitting beside Rast and drooling profusely once he saw the giant meat-lovers pizza resting on the table. Rast smiled as he looked around the restaurant; not too many people were inside, and he made sure to pick a booth far away from everyone else. The pizza shop looked only slightly bigger than Seamus’ diner, with a bar and stools not far from the checkout counter and a series of tables and chairs spread out around the restaurant. Rast wiggled his nose and smelled pizza baking in the kitchen some yards away. He could smell all the sauce the chefs were preparing and the various toppings that were being sprinkled onto the dishes. The rodent was so distracted by all the smells that he almost forgot about his own pie that was resting on the table.

“There you go! Hope you enjoy!” said the waiter, a human with light brown skin.

_Thank him. Remember that, Rast. People like to—_

“Thank you very much, sir,” said Doug.

The waiter smiled and walked away, while Doug turned and looked at the rat. _Shit. He beat me to it._

“Are you serious right now? …Are you serious?” Doug asked.

Rast nodded while Seamus helped himself to a slice of the thick-crust pizza. “Uh-huh. Pizza always makes people feel better. Why else would they eat it so much?”

“You cannot expect me to sit here and discuss our ‘private’ details while we’re eating this pile of grease and fat. How can—MMPH!”

Rast grabbed a slice of pizza and stuffed it into the shark’s mouth. He paused for a moment, and then Douglas bit off part of his slice. The rodent smirked as Doug chewed the pizza thoroughly and swallowed. And then he took two more bites.

“This changes nothing,” Doug said, spitting with his mouth full. “I’m not working with this fucking pig.”

Seamus swallowed hard while Rast reached forward and grabbed his own slice. He bit into the saucy, meat-smothered pizza for a moment before he nodded a few times. “I’m not sure what you two did to hate each other so much—”

“He tried to kill me. Multiple times,” Seamus snarled before pausing to drink his cola. “You know that scar on my face? I ain’t get that shit getting mugged.”

“You should be lucky,” Doug interrupted. “I was going for your eye and just _barely_ missed!”

Rast listened to the two creatures as they talked amongst one another. He didn’t interrupt their squabbling as they remembered all the times where they nearly killed one another. If anything, Rast was more concerned about the next video tape he would make. He already told himself not to pick anyone from college—at least not yet. People were still searching for Dante and Tomas. If he got rid of another student, then everyone’s suspicions would continue to rise. As Rast pondered, he grinned widely to himself. The city was populated with millions of people, of all shapes and sizes, all different ethnicities and species. It wouldn’t be hard to find someone else. He just had to not get caught. Rast finished devouring his first slice of pizza and grabbed another, hungrily tearing through the meat, cheese, sauce and dough. Seamus suddenly elbowed him and snorted.

“Don’t trust this fucker, pup. C’mon, we don’t need him. You and me, we’ll be partners in this li’l film thing you got goin’ on. I’ll give you the supplies and vehicles; you shoot the footage and find all the victims. We’ll split the money fifty-fifty. That’s fair, right?”

Douglas shook his head. “Big mistake, pup. Working with that pig over there is like carrying a time bomb and not knowing when it’ll go off. But it _will_ go off eventually, and you’re gonna be the one who suffers when it happens.”

Rast chewed more of his pizza until he noticed a strange smell in the air. He frowned for a moment before scrunching up his face. 

“Fuck you. Least I’m not some frilly-dressed snake who s…the fuck?”

Seamus groaned as he covered his snout with both hands. Rast couldn’t stop scrunching up his face, and eventually resorted to pulling his hoody over his muzzle just so he could cover his nose. The pig and rat stared at the shark, and noticed that he was grinning smugly as he ate his pizza nonchalantly.

“Y’see? Not a single person heard that. Absolutely no one. Oh sure, yeah, that stench is dreadful. But no one knows I dropped that just now. If that were Seamus, well, I’m sure he would’ve put a microphone near his ass just to ensure everyone knew _he_ ripped one.”

Seamus lowered his hands and snarled. “Fuck’s sake. Are you trying to say you even _fart_ better than I do?!”

Doug blinked. “Yes.”

Lowering his hoody, Rast exhaled and waved the stink away before he glared at Doug. “Okay, let’s forget about all past discretions. Let’s forget about our state of hygiene. Let’s not, for the love of fuck, start talking about our bodily functions. I deal with that shit everytime I meet with Seamus, Doug. Point is we got everything to gain here, but also everything to lose.”

“How can you expect—”

“Shut the fuck up, Seamus,” Rast snarled. “Last time I checked, you threatened to call the cops on me. Now…I hid the bodies _very_ well, but if they connect the dots, that’s it for me. I’m in jail until I’m your age. And now that you figured out what I did—and made you an accessory because I used your van—you have to be involved.”

“Which is why I suggest we get rid of this individual right here. He’s gonna screw everything up for us, pup. You and I both know that,” Doug said.

Rast glared at the shark and snorted. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry. Um…yeah, didn’t you try to kill me? Yeah, I’m pretty damn sure I remember you pointing a handgun at my face.”

Doug grumbled. “Yes, I did indeed try to kill you. My office still stinks of rat piss, by the way.”

Rast looked away and rubbed his nose. “Look, point is, none of us likes each other. All of us have tried to fuck all of us over in some way. But we all have our…our own little problems to deal with. I’m still suspended from college, and my job ain’t getting better, nor is the pay. I’m sure that Seamus is in the same position. And I’m sure, Doug, that you’re perfectly fine where you’re situated. But you want more. Because you’re a person. All people—all feral animals even—they always want more. More land, more drugs, more porn, more guns…more everything. How much money has that video I gave you made so far?”

“Seven thousand. And people are still paying to see it.”

Rast’s face lit up. He laughed. “And that’s _one_ video. I wanna make more…I _need_ to. So let’s say I get you about three videos a week. On average, how much would that make me?”

“About ten grand per video.”

“So…thirty times four? That’s over a hundred-thousand dollars a month you’re bringing in. And as I make more videos, I get more popular. My videos will end up costing more; more people will pay to see them, buy them. Those numbers double, triple, quadruple—you see where I’m going with this? This is gonna allow you, Douglas, to meet new clients in the future for other contracts and connections. And this is gonna make you, Seamus, a shitload of money.”

“So what’s in it for you?” Doug asked.

Rast flicked his nose with his thumb and sniffed. “You guys know about Joanna Smith, nice, pretty woman, just started working for a gaming company? I hear she’s been developing the next triple-A game set to come out next year.”

“Nope,” said Seamus.

Doug shook his head and ate more pizza.

“All right. What about Tyler Tuvvern? He’s a horse who recently opened up a bar. One of the few in the city that doesn’t discriminate against the trans community. Recently got out of our college.”

“Nope,” said Seamus.

“I care little for people who assist those with artificial _parts_ ,” Doug said.

Rast nodded. “Uh-huh. What about Jim Jolson? Uhhh, graduated recently, is currently in the process of designing a new type of train for the railroad industry?”

“Nah.”

“No.”

Rast exhaled. “Dougie Tollas? Ervin Qwuin? Kelly Rogley? Peylar Pipps? Dick Dyedar?”

“Oh yeah, Mr. Dyedar,” Doug replied. “Heh, haven’t spoken to that blowhard rhino in some time. Been giving him cash to help keep some college he partially operates intact, and in return he ‘assists’ me with a few things.”

_Shit_ , the rat thought. _This guy knows my administrator…gotta remember that._ After listing all the names, Rast leaned back in his booth and rolled his tongue around his teeth, picking out a chunk of pizza bread that got caught between his teeth. After he swallowed it, he leaned forward again and smirked.

“How ‘bout Mitchum Cooley?”

“Oh, yeah, I heard about that croc!” Seamus chimed in. “Guy’s been all over the news. Said he went crazy or some shit and lit up a mall. Killed over fifty people, that guy. Lot of ‘em was kids too.”

“I didn’t know Mr. Cooley personally,” Doug said, before devouring an entire pizza slice, “but I did receive some payoffs from that tattoo parlor he allegedly worked at. Nice place actually. As for the croc…eh. ‘Notha mass shooting. ‘Notha thing for the media to gawk at for the next month or two. People will forget about him when there’s another massacre in the city.”

“And they’ll replace him with the _next_ mass murderer, won’t they? They’ll plaster the next runner-up’s name all over the Hall of Infamy, won’t they?” Rast asked.

Rast glared at Doug as he leaned back in his booth and swallowed again. “Is that what this is, pup? You just wanna fill your inflated ego?”

“Yes. Is that not simple?”

“No, it’s not. There’s _billions_ of criminals within this entire galaxy. We’re just on one planet. There’s a dozen planets in this galaxy, and there are other galaxies outside of this one, I’m sure.”

“Exactly. Not many of them are known for…for making the kind of films I intend to make.”

Seamus looked at Doug and smirked. “He’s gotcha there, Chum Breath. Don’t know many snuff filmmakers ‘round here.”

“Precisely,” Rast continued. “Serial rapist? Eh. Mass murderer? Meh. College professor? Bleh. Fast-food worker? Whatever. Buuuuuut no one’s talkin’ ‘bout anyone making snuff films, are they? At least…not until they hear about me.”

Doug exhaled. “Fine. You do what you want, but since we’re all in this together, we’re all gonna help each other when we need it, understand? I’ll deal with posting the films online and getting the money. You, Seamus, will get Rast all the tools and weapons he needs. But you, Rast? You’re doing the heavy lifting. You find the people you want in your film, you do whatever you want to ‘em, you dispose of their bodies and other evidence _properly_. Understand?”

Rast nodded. “I did it once. I can do it again.”

Seamus snorted. “Eh, what about me? I got my own shit to deal with too. We’re all in cahoots now; that means we’re all tit-for-tat, or whatever the fuck.”

Doug drank from his glass of cherry-flavored cola before he exhaled. “I’m fully aware of your organization and how they handle things. And I’m aware that you’ve been getting sloppy lately.”

“Yeah, yeah, been in a spot of trouble. Would be a shame if the cops caught me, and I ended up saying a few things.”

Rast glared at Seamus the same way that Doug did. Out the corner of his eye, the rat could see that Douglas wanted to slice the pig’s throat. He still had no idea what Seamus was involved in, but right then, he contemplated putting the swine in one of his future videos. Seamus shrugged nonchalantly before he grabbed the crust of his unfinished pizza slice and crammed it into his mouth.

“Just sayin’,” Seamus said, his mouth full.

Doug exhaled. “Yes, swine, I will help you. Let the pup worry about his own mess; we’ll work together on our personal dealings.”

“What about you?” Rast asked. “How do we know you won’t rat us out if you get caught by the police?”

Doug grinned. “That’s a good question.”

Rast scowled as he stared at the shark’s toothy grin. But after a brief moment, Douglas chuckled and rubbed his snout, his gills moving as he breathed softly.

“Honestly, even if the cops catch me, I have money. My employees have money. My business partners have money. So if I’m caught, all I gotta do is put in a call or whisper in the right ears or stick my hand into the right bank accounts, and I’m free. Don’t matter if it’s city police, the TPO, or even the IGPA…you’d be surprised at what the police will ignore if you offer them enough money.”

Rast’s mind eased almost instantly. _Holy crap. This shark has enough money to bribe the Intergalactic Police Association. My god…I just stepped into a fuckin’ gold mine._ Rast held in his joy and cleared his throat as he looked at the empty pizza pan that was sitting on the table. He quaffed the rest of his sugary drink before he set his glass down and sniffed.

“So we’re all agreed then. We’re all…”

Rast paused. _Friends? No, we all hate each other. Acquaintances? No…we’re a bit more than that now, especially since we’re locked into all this. Partners? …Eh, close enough._

“Partners,” Rast said, after pausing for a while. “Partners in crime, as cliché as that sounds.”

Seamus chuckled and slapped his big gut. “I’m down with that! S’long as I make a shit-ton of money!”

Rast looked at Doug’s grin. He still sensed something off about the giant fish, even though he seemed to be the most powerful one in the trio. Nevertheless, the shark nodded and sniffed.

“Sure. I’ve no problem having a couple new employees to work alongside me.”

Something in Rast’s spine told him he shouldn’t trust Doug at all. He didn’t trust Seamus either, but at least he knew him longer than the shark. Nevertheless, Doug was his only source of money besides his crummy job at the moment. _Screw it…I’ll just smile and nod_ , Rast told himself. _I do it every day anyways._

_I can do it for a little bit longer._


	7. Unlucky Number Thirteen

Rast groaned as he stepped into the bathroom and scratched his thigh. He flicked on the light inside and rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he looked at himself in the mirror. The rat opened his mouth and looked at all his yellow rotting teeth and slimy tongue, which he used to push against a loose tooth. The rodent grumbled as he shut his mouth and smacked his lips, shortly before he urinated in the toilet. Sighing, Rast walked back into his bedroom before he turned on his TV and switched over to the news. Clad only in his boxers, the scruffy rat sat down on his bed as he let the news reporter talk about current events in the background. He looked down at the floorboards and rubbed his footpaw against it as he grinned.

“…unsure of where the Metro bus was last spotted. Reports indicate that the driver went missing and the bus was heading on the outskirts of the city, having made a detour from the driver’s usual destination…”

Rast smirked as he listened to the news reports talking about the bus. He slid off his mattress and removed the floorboards near his bed and set them aside. Then he removed his camera, moments before he slipped his paws beneath the wood and pulled out a large shoebox. Sitting against his mattress, the rat opened up the box and gazed at twelve flash drives placed inside. He grinned to himself as he ran his fingers against the flash drives, flipping them over and looking at all of the labels he placed on them. Some just had the initials of the people he kidnapped and murdered, while others were just labeled based on what he did that night or what he remembered most, namely the two he named “SPLATTER” and “SAW.” Rast rubbed his nose before he put the top back onto the box and set it aside. He hid all of his evidence again before rubbing his moist nose and setting the floorboards back into place. Standing up, Rast stretched and cracked his back before he looked at his calendar and frowned. Mr. Kenchum had called him a week ago and told him that his suspension was nearly over, and that he would be able to return to school today.

“Shit,” the rat murmured.

___________________________________

Everyone had short attention spans. He was sure that everyone probably forgot about the whole thing. He walked outside of his car and exhaled as he slammed the door and slung his backpack over his back. As far as anyone knew, he was just that “scruffy black rat who always wore hoodies,” nothing more. Rast walked along the sidewalk and smiled as he greeted a few students and instructors. He walked up the front steps of the main building and moved past two canines who were chatting amongst themselves. He didn’t greet them, but he could see them glaring at him out the corner of his eye. One of them whispered, and the other one snickered under his breath. Rast shut his eyes and snorted. _Let it go, Rast. If you kill them too, then the cops will know someone on campus is kidnapping the students and murdering them._ So Rast exhaled and shoved aside any thoughts of kidnapping either canine. As he reached the top step, he heard someone whistle shrilly and wave at him.

“Hey, Rack-back! Lookin’ good mah dude!”

Rast turned and spotted a European leaf-toed gecko leaning against the campus’ wall. The scaly lizard with various patterns of brown and yellowish scales walked over to him, his bare feet slapping on the ground. _Bump his fist, Rast. You know he likes it when you—_

“Bump it, bruh!”

Rast looked down at the gecko’s right hand and saw he formed a fist. Rast smiled and made a fist of his own, and they bumped knuckles. The rodent blinked as he looked at the gecko’s clothing, taking note of his long black shorts and the dark green shirt he was wearing that had an electric guitar logo on it with patterns of lightning bolts emerging from the guitar. On top of all that, the gecko was wearing a black baseball cap backwards. Rast looked at the gecko’s attire and smirked.

“Still dressing like those humans did when it was the nineties on their planet.”

Rast looked at the gecko as he sized him up as well. Then he leaned forward and sniffed Rast. “Still dressing like those city bums! Still smelling like one too. Just gotta put a brown bag in yer paw and yer all set!”

Rast chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “How you doing, Lamson?”

“Pssh! How _I’m_ doin’? How are _you_ doin’, bruh?! Ain’t seen ya in a month!”

Rast shrugged. “Y’know. Been working, been thinking a lot. Been relaxing…tell you the truth, I was kinda glad I got suspended.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Betcha spent all that ‘free time’ gettin’ wasted and snortin’ that powder, eh? Betcha took it up the tail a bunch, didn’t ya? Or, uh, y’know, plowin’ some dude?”

Lamson stammered and scratched his face. “Ooh, oh, sorry. I know you…eh, y’know, probably don’t want that brought up again.”

“It’s fine, Lamson. I know I’m gay…and so does everyone else, apparently.”

There was a pause, and then Lamson frowned and rubbed his snout. “Real talk though, bud? I don’t care you into humans. I mean, hell, there was a time where those humans couldn’t stand us ‘fags’ spraying our jizz all up in the streets. Heh, now we can fuck as many dudes as we want!”

Rast scowled and asked himself, _is that supposed to make me feel better?_

“Dunno. Did it?”

_Fuck, he heard me. I need to stop doing that!_

“Somewhat.”

“I mean, dude, there’s gays everywhere on Tero. It’s no big deal.”

“Yeah, well, it is when humans and anthros fuck, ain’t it?”

Lamson groaned and rolled his eyes. “Blacks and Whites. Whites and Asians. Whites and Native Americans. Humans and Gays. Humans and Transgenders. Cats and Dogs. Reptiles and Mammals. Hamsters and Guinea Pigs. Canines—you wanna know what all this shit is? They the Anti-Memes, bruh!”

Rast raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“The Anti-Memes! You know how them memes be, dude! ‘Oooooooh, lookit this! I done stuck a pencil up my snout! The Pencil Challenge! HASHTAG, BLOODY NOSES!’ And then, y’know, like a week later, people are all like, ‘the fuck is the pencil challenge? That shit sounds stupid.’ Well, Anti-Memes are the same shit. But instead of stupid shit, it’s negative shit. While back, we’d be dead for being gay. D’you know that?”

Rast nodded. “Yeah.”

“And now everyone welcomes us with open arms! Or dicks. Whichever. Point is, so what if you fuckin’ humans? Give it a few years—hell, few months even—and people won’t give a shit anymore. People shouldn’t give a shit _now_ , but…eh. What can ya do?”

_Murder everyone who fucks with me._

“Yes, but then you’d go to prison.”

_FUCK!_

“Hmm. Suppose that’s true. Eh…like you said, short attention spans and all that. ‘Sides, we got other crap to worry about, yeah?”

“No shit! Dude, seven Metro buses went missing this month and they can’t find the people on ‘em anywhere! I take the bus all the time; you know how scary that shit is? Where the hell did these people go?!”

_Seamus kidnapped all of them and chopped them into giant chunks. …Please tell me I didn’t say that out loud._

“Dunno. It’s disturbing,” Rast said.

Lamson exhaled after hearing one of the bells inside campus ring. “All right, dude. We’d best get to class ‘fore Mr. Ketchup has a fit.”

Rast nodded. “Kay.”

As the rat and gecko walked alongside each other, Lamson snickered and dug into his pocket, pulling out a pencil. Rast looked at him and frowned.

“Oh yeah, I’m coining that Pencil Challenge,” the lizard said.

“Um, what?”

Lamson flared his left nostril and started to stick the pencil near the orifice. “All right, c’mon…”

“What are you doing?!”

“Relax, bruh. Did this all the time as a hatchling!”

_That explains a lot._

__________________________________

He forced himself to concentrate in class. He told himself to look at everyone as fellow students, and not potential victims for later that night. Having just returned to school, Rast knew it was far too risky to kidnap and kill anyone else from here. As for Dante and Tomas, rumors spread about the two, but no one seemed to care. Several students were disgusted over what they did and didn’t want them to return, while others assumed that Mr. Dyedar expelled them both. Either way, they wouldn’t be found. If the cops hadn’t found their bodies in over a month, then Rast knew that it was hopeless. So Rast relaxed as he sat in class, forcing himself not to smirk or daydream about what he would do later that night. As soon as he got out of class, he chose to celebrate his victory with Lamson, and the two went out and ate premium burgers at a new restaurant that opened. He talked and joked with Lamson, as he always did, to maintain his “normal” life. He gave Lamson a ride home, because as Rast discovered, friends like it when they could ride in someone’s car for free. Even if they farted in it multiple times.

But as soon as Lamson was home, he headed out and fetched Seamus’ van again, and wasted no time capturing another unsuspecting civilian and hauling him into the giant vehicle. Rast spotted a truck behind his van multiple times, but thought nothing of it when it turned and headed in a different direction. He arrived at the warehouse like he always did, stripped his victim naked, like he always did, and sodomized him, all while he recorded it on camera. After he finished raping his victim, he flipped over the tall, burly horse and strapped him down to the metal table he was lying on. Holding a scalpel in one paw, Rast circled the horse and snickered.

“Lucky number thirteen,” he hissed. “You should be proud!”

The horse hadn’t screamed when Rast raped him. Didn’t bother to fight back much. Even now, as Rast looked down at the majestic brown beast, he noticed that the equine wasn’t pleading for his life. Rast rubbed his nose and sniffled.

“All these times, I’ve always done this for myself, just to feel this…this _pleasure_. This…y’know, I get to escape from my programming. I get to finally express myself. Living this wonderful, joyful, mysterious life that not a single person knows about. I thought that this would disgust me. Thought it would make me throw up a lot, make me shit myself over how ‘vile’ I am. But no…no. No, this is—”

“Did you want your change?”

The rat stopped and frowned. “What?”

The horse slowly looked at the rodent. “Did you want your change?”

“Um… what—”

“You see me every day…and you don’t know my name. You…I work as a cashier at Marty’s Pharmaceuticals. You buy the same three candy bars, every week. You never take your change if you overpay. And then you walk away. You…you smile at me. All the time. Such a young, bright rat. And-and yet, here you are…doing _this_ to me.”

Rast scoffed and shook his head. He heard something clang in the distance, the sound causing his ears to twitch. He looked out in the distance and squinted, thinking he saw some bizarre kind of vehicle in the distance. But then he grumbled and looked back down at the horse.

“So I don’t know your name. So what? You don’t know mine either. No one does. I do everything people like, and no one knows who I am. Even you just thought I was another kind customer who overpaid.”

“Yes…but now, seems like you’re this _disgusting_ person…this unholy creature spawned by Satan.”

Rast exhaled. “No. That’s not what I am. I’m the same as everyone. I’m a person with hopes. With dreams. I strive to do everything people _want_. But…but then, I realized that everything I was doing—greeting people, thanking them, doing my homework, cleaning my room—it was all just programs that society carved into my skull. It made me miserable.”

“And _this_ is what makes you happy?”

“Yes! Yes, this-this makes me ecstatic! Full of joy! I’m no different from a person who-who goes to parties, who gets drunk, goes out to the club, goes to festivals—this is escapism! This is—”

“Mm-mm…no. No, d-don’t even. Don’t even throw your sadism on how our world is,” the horse said, his eyes watering. “This world is not filled with people who secretly want to rape and kill everyone! This world is not the reason why you behave the way that you do! Why-why are you doing this? What the fuck happened to cause this? Did your parents rape you? Did you—”

“No. No, I had a decent childhood. Loving mother and father. Sister’s kinda bitchy, but eh. My childhood was fine.”

“Then _why_?”

Rast sighed and shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe my mind is…troubled. Maybe I’m ‘mentally handicapped.’ Maybe I just wasn’t breast-fed enough. Maybe—”

“Not one time…not _one time_ did I see you go to the pharmacy. _Ever_. You never seemed troubled. You never seemed insane. You never struck me as being mentally impaired. And even if you were, you didn’t try to do anything to change it. You can’t just expect people to believe that all of this is just a cry for help!”

Rast shrugged. “Why not? All I gotta do is just, y’know, tell people I’m insane. I just gotta walk the walk, talk the talk. They’ll put me in a mental institution. They’ll coddle me. They’ll give me meds. I’ll be on my best behavior. And once they see that I’m ‘well’ again, I’m home free!”

The rodent leaned down as he grinned in the horse’s face. “And then I get to do this all over again.”

The horse closed his eyes and exhaled as the rat walked over to the table and proceeded to move his fingers over more of his serrated instruments.

“I got this new drill, actually. Haven’t tried it out yet, but hey…why not now?”

“You…you wanna know what’s sad about all this?”

“No, and I don’t care,” Rast said bluntly.

“People say all the time that you shouldn’t talk to strangers on the Internet…that you-you can only trust people that you meet in person. And yet, my best friend is someone who lives in an entirely different country. I…we just e-mail each other, we always—”

“I don’t care,” Rast growled sternly.

The horse chuckled. “You don’t get it. I used to be married for over six years. My wife cheated on me. Multiple times. I had a coworker whom I frequently confided in and had drinks with. He quit his job…so he could run away with my wife. I had a boss who was always kind and caring to his employees. He got fired, because he was stealing money from the company and underpaying his workers. And you? You…you always smiled at me. _Always_. You were always so…you seemed so peaceful, so innocent. But now I see that you’re this twisted, malevolent monster who only cares about hurting other people as some desperate way to rebel against society.”

Rast rolled his eyes. “What is your point?”

The horse snorted. “Back in my day…the second you met someone, you knew straight up what kind of person they were. They never ‘hid’ anything. Never put on this façade. But now…I-I just can’t tell anymore. It’s like…everyone is hiding…everyone is lying. All the time. I can’t even trust the people closest to me anymore…I can’t trust strangers…who do I trust?”

Rast grinned widely. “Nobody.”

The horse closed his eyes and exhaled. “Just…just kill me. If this is how the world is gonna be from now on…fuck it. I’m better off dead anyway.”

Rast flared his nostrils as he looked at the horse and the way he apathetically accepted his fate. The rodent shrugged as he grabbed the scalpel again and chuckled.

“Fine.”

The horse grunted as Rast slashed his throat, causing blood to shoot out. Rast sighed as he set the scalpel down and looked at the equine bleeding out. He leaned against his table full of tools before he heard another clang in the distance and frowned. Rast swore to himself as he took a few steps away from his victim and started to scope out the location, wondering if someone had followed him to the warehouse. Feeling exposed, Rast chewed on his thumb for a bit and mumbled to himself before he looked at the horse and noticed that he had stopped moving. Paranoid and exposed, Rast swiftly got dressed again before he rushed over to the horse’s corpse and untied his body. _Calm down, Rast. Calm down. It’s just some clanging. It’s probably just a bum or some shit. Or maybe some birds. Or some bugs. Fuck, now I can’t stop talking to myself—just shut up…shut up. You’re fine._

“Fucking noises,” Rast murmured.

Rast cleared his throat after he put the body inside of Seamus’ van and quickly disposed of the corpse. By the time he was finished, he drove the van back over to a hidden location so Seamus could pick it up later, shortly before he got out the van and headed back over into the city. Rast walked over to the bus station and waited for the bus to come by before he got on and headed back to his apartment. As soon as he got off the bus, he looked around the street to ensure that no one else had followed him or was glaring at him from the distance. Rast rubbed his nose before he looked to his left and right, and then spat on the ground. He set his paws into his pockets and walked into the apartment complex before he spotted some of the usual people he came across. Someone was smoking a joint beneath all the stairs, there was a couple arguing behind closed doors on the second floor, and some drunken iguana was sleeping in his own puddle of puke again. Rast grunted as he groped his cell phone and pulled it out, checking the recent messages.

“Hey.”

Rast turned around after hearing someone call out to him, but he saw no one. The rat grumbled as he walked up more stairs and arrived at his apartment. He was just beginning to unlock the door when he saw an opossum and a black bear walking up to an adjacent apartment. He squinted at them for a moment as they picked out a set of keys. Rast grumbled and told himself to stop being paranoid, and then he opened his front door. The rat exhaled as he tossed his keys and his camera down onto his couch. And then everything went black.

_______________________________

Rast gasped and rolled over onto his stomach, coughing and rubbing the back of his head as it throbbed in pain. He gritted his teeth and snorted before he got on all fours and started to stand up. Then the rat quickly turned on the light in his living room, panting heavily.

“The fuck…?”

Rast’s place looked even trashier than before. Several of his books and other tools had been tossed on the floor, left open or broken. Immediately, Rast panted as he ran into his bedroom and flicked on his light.

“No…fuck. No!”

The floorboards had been removed. Rast didn’t care that some of his personal items had been broken or that his clothes and other items had been tossed around on the floor. All that mattered was that someone found his hiding spot. He sprinted for the hole in the floor and stuffed his paws into the hidden space. Nothing was inside, except for an illiterate note. He stared at the note and gritted his teeth as he read it aloud.

“‘Royker Station. Tomorrow. Three o’clock. Five million. No cops.’ Fuck…MOTHERFUCKER!”

Rast howled as he tore the note apart.

___________________________________________

He had no other option, and he clearly didn’t have the money. All he could do at this point was contact his only source of income, minus his job that paid less than minimum wage. Rast panted as he walked over to the Big Piggies shop before he pushed open the door and spotted Douglas checking inventory by himself, mere minutes away from closing the store. Doug turned and looked at the rat with his casual smile as always and greeted him.

“Hello! Welcome to Big Piggies! Need help with something?”

Rast played along and exhaled. “Yeah, uh, I…my shoes were stolen. I _just_ bought a pair of shoes—spent lots of money, in fact. And…I don’t suppose there’s a warranty or something?”

Rast looked at the shark’s nod and sniffed. “Perhaps we should discuss this more inside my office,” Doug said.

Doug walked over to the door and flipped the sign over again before he shut off the light. Then he led the rat over to his back office and opened up the door. The second that Rast was inside and Doug locked the door, he exhaled and slammed his fist against the wall.

“Don’t abuse my wall. And don’t piss on my floor again.”

Rast snorted. “Someone stole them. They stole my camera! My fucking videos!”

“Did you see who did it?”

Rast exhaled. “Wasn’t the cops, so that’s good. They left a note behind; they wanna do a trade. Five million to get ‘em back at Royker Station.”

“And you don’t have five million.”

“No! My videos haven’t made _that_ much money!”

Doug rubbed his chin. “So, what? You want me to write you a check?”

“I need those videos back, Doug!”

The shark grumbled. “Okay, did these idiots threaten you in any way? Are they gonna kill you if you don’t get the videos back?”

“That’s not the point! It’s _mine_! It’s all _my_ property, Douglas!”

Douglas shrugged. “And? Why do you care? I already posted all the videos online; it’s gonna be there unless the site is shut down. People have seen ‘em, multiple times. You got paid your cut. I got paid. I—” Douglas stammered and held out his arms, squinting. “Why do you care?! All you lost where the hard copies!”

“That’s the point! Some assholes stole _my_ videos and if I don’t get them back, they-they’re probably gonna put them on some rival website! Or they’re gonna sell them to someone else for more money—or they’re gonna distribute them! I-I dunno! Someone took my shit! Just-just help me get ‘em back!”

Douglas sighed and rolled his eyes. “Look, if they were threatening to go to the cops? Absolutely! I’d help you get these flash drives back in a heartbeat. But they just want money; as far as I know, they’re just trying to rob you for shits and giggles. For all you know, they might kill you as soon as you pay them. Is it really worth the risk?”

“Yes,” Rast said bluntly.

Douglas smacked a hand against his forehead and slowly moved it down his face. He chuckled to himself before he folded his arms and leaned forward.

“Rast. Your videos are not the _Vitruvian Man_. They’re fucking _snuff films_. No one stole art from you; they stole shit! You’re trying to pay millions of dollars to get back _shit_!”

“It doesn’t matter how _you_ feel about it. I did all this fucking work! I found the victims, I drugged them, I raped them, I killed them, I filmed them with my camera, and I’ve sent you all the footage! You haven’t done shit but pay me and upload videos; Seamus doesn’t do shit but allow me to use his warehouse and his vans! That’s it! I do every other fucking thing _by myself_ , so I deserve credit for it!”

Douglas chuckled as he leaned against his desk. “You wanna—you wanna know what you sound like? You sound like those…those frat boys or those guys from college who spend all their free time lighting their farts on fire and taking shits. You’re one of those guys who just eats a bunch of beans, and then you rip one, and all your friends clap and applaud you for releasing such a horrific stink and for making such a loud noise that sounds like a balloon deflating. Or you’re one of those guys who-who ate a bunch of Mexican food, and then you take a dump so large that it clogs the toilet, and it overflows. And again, all your frat boys see it, they smell it, and they just look at you and applaud. And I’m—”

Doug paused for a moment and sucked on his teeth. “And I’m sitting here thinking, ‘you just emitted waste and/or gas from your ass. And people are applauding you. I do not fucking understand the mentality of this bullshit, but there’s a fanbase for it, and people go out of their way to pay for it.’ And then I stand here and I listen to you egotistical little twats when someone comes along and tells you that you’re fucking disgusting or that you shouldn’t be doing this, because it’s taboo. I don’t understand the point of this kind of mentality. At the same time though, I know how to profit off of it.”

Rast scowled when he noticed Douglas grinning widely. “See, people like you are so narcissistic, but so disgusting, that you don’t know _how_ to publish your kind of, um, ‘art’ without having the cops get involved or without everyone thinking that you’re a freak. So you all come to me, I publish whatever kind of ‘art’ you created, and then I make more money, while you turn into a pariah once everyone eventually figures out what you’re doing. You can stand there and talk about how ‘wonderful’ your art is, about how much you value it, but the truth is…it’s just shit. And believe it or not, people are into shit. I’m not, because I have more refined tastes than that; I have received well-made snuff films—or regular pornos—that have time and care put into them. But pups like you just throw shit together and say, ‘I made a thing. Gimme money.’ And now that you figured out that there’s a fanbase for it, you think you’re valuable! You think you’re a…a rare godsend! You fool yourself into believing that you’re special! But shit is shit, Rast. And that’s all you’re making.”

Rast paused for a moment. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. _Fuck this shithead. Fuck does he know about what I do? Fuck does…I am fucking special. Fuck him…fuck his mentality; I am fucking special._

“You know what…you can say I’m dirty, that I’m an egotist, that I’m wretched—fine. But you’re working with me, side by side. You know what I’m doing. You know I’m raping and killing people. And you don’t _care_. Fuck does that say about you and _your_ mentality?”

Douglas shrugged. “That I’m stuck in a corner. _Everyone_ around me is a fuckin’ idiot. Everyone. I gotta work with people like you to make a living. Why else do you think I haven’t killed Seamus yet?”

Rast stuffed his paws into his pockets and exhaled. “You know what, I just realized that this ain’t getting my videos back any faster.”

Douglas chuckled. “That’s because I’ve no incentive to help you. And talking to you in a condescending tone is more worth my time than wandering around looking for piles of shit someone stole from you.”

Rast grinned and sucked on his teeth. “Fine! You’re right…you’re right. I shouldn’t have come here; I apologize. All this…all this talk about farts and shit—you got me thinking about a certain other individual I know about who adores this slurry! Perhaps Seamus Osgranov will help me!”

That did it. Rast glared at Douglas toothily when his smug grin immediately went away. Douglas lowered his arms and breathed deeply, causing his gills to move.

“Do not do that.”

“Why not? I make shit. Seamus loves shit. He’d be perfect to help me get these videos back!”

“Seamus is an impulsive Neanderthal. He will fuck up this situation for you—trust me. I’ve known him longer than you.”

“Maybe he’s pretending to be an idiot, y’know? Get you to lower your suspicion.”

“Seamus once shat himself directly in front of me because he didn’t feel like walking ten yards to go to the bathroom, and he didn’t feel like pulling his shorts down. Do you _seriously_ want someone like that to help you obtain these videos?”

“Once again, you rant about how stupid people like Seamus and I are, yet you’re working alongside us for money.”

Douglas huffed. “Do not get Seamus involved in this. He will fuck you over; I _swear_ he will.”

Rast shrugged. “Welp. You won’t help me. Seamus will though! So, I guess we’re done here.”

 _Walk to the door_ , Rast thought. _He’ll stop you_. The black rat smirked to himself as he slowly walked over to the office door, ready to head outside. He reached for the handle, and then Doug snarled.

“Stop,” he growled. “You don’t need Seamus to help you.”

Rast turned around and looked at the shark. “Why not?”

Douglas exhaled. “Fine. I’ll help you get the flash drives back.”

“You can get all the money in time?”

“Yes. Did the note say for you to come alone?”

“No. Just not to bring any cops with me.”

“Good. We’re going to this meeting _together_ , you’re gonna get the drives, we’re gonna pay the money, we’re gonna leave. That’s it.”

Rast grinned widely. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Because I know for a fact that Seamus isn’t smart enough to rectify this situation. He’s gonna make it worse for you. And if he’s gonna ruin this for you, then I just _know_ that whatever he does will impact me too. He’s not gonna clean up your mess; he’s gonna throw his clod of shit into a fan and spray it everywhere, and I’m gonna get hit!”

“Hmph. Well, when you put it like that…”

“Just go home and wait for me tomorrow. I’ll handle this.”

“Whatever you say.”

Rast turned around and finally left Doug’s office, grinning the entire time now that he got the shark to do what he wanted.


	8. Shark

_Waste of fuckin’ time_ , he thought. Waste of time. Waste of money. Waste of energy. Douglas Kevro walked alongside the scruffy black rat, occasionally flicking his eyes down at him and scowling. Every now and again, Rast would look up at him and smirk, much to Doug’s annoyance. The burly shark looked down at his black dress shirt and navy blue slacks before he adjusted his silver striped tie. Then the giant shark rubbed his nose and sniffled.

“Your pay’s getting cut for the next video you send me,” Douglas snarled.

Rast shrugged. “Fine.”

Douglas blinked as he looked down at the rat clad in a red hoody and black jeans. He could very easily just kill him right now; he’d be better off. Twenty-eight years old. Narcissistic. More importantly, idiotic. The shark grumbled to himself as he weighed out his pros and cons. Five million was pocket change to him. But Rast still hadn’t earned him an even million dollars yet with his videos. Still, there was an audience for this kind of media, and Doug didn’t know who else would pump out new videos. _I’ll just deal with him for now. Soon as he’s invaluable, he’s gone. Simple._

“Did they tell you what they look like?”

Rast shrugged again. “Um…no. They said they would find me.”

“Wonderful.”

Douglas and Rast continued to walk throughout Royker Station, walking down an escalator and entering the lower region of the area. Cacophonous, incoherent clamoring filled the anthros’ ears as they wandered past hundreds of humans and anthros of all shapes and sizes. The duo passed by a few small-time soda and snack shops selling giant pretzels or various kinds of candy. Douglas stopped when three human children walked past him, and then grunted after a zebra talking on her cell phone bumped into him. Gills moving as he breathed, Douglas signaled Rast to stop so they could look around the vast station. The shark spotted more typical individuals—a skunk who was wearing a bizarre spotted suit, some truckers clad in jeans and flannel shirts, a small group of college students all wearing jackets showing off their campus’s mascot and colors, and more kids walking behind their parents and eating ice cream. The shark sniffed the air multiple times, catching all sorts of scents. The freshly-baked pretzels and doughnuts nearly made his mouth water, and then he scowled as a cheetah who smelled like he had rolled around in paint walked by. Douglas sighed and looked at Rast.

“See anything?”

Rast shook his head and exhaled. “Nah. Goddamn it. This asshole could be anywhere!”

Douglas turned away from the rat and grumbled after catching a whiff of his garlic and cheese breath. “Hmph. Maybe your breath scared him off.”

Doug noticed Rast looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “ _My_ breath?”

Before Rast could say anything else, his cell phone buzzed. Douglas watched as the rat looked at his phone, and then he blinked.

“Okay…someone sent a message saying ‘Green Fedora.’”

“How the hell did these guys get your number?”

Rast shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Least we know what he’s wearing.”

The shark groaned and scratched around his gills. “All right, he’s probably near one of the tracks. That’s where I’d hide.”

“Good point. There’s a hat shop right over near D Track; let’s just wait over there.”

Doug leaned against a column out in the train station, just outside of the hat shop. Rast sucked on his teeth for a moment before he rubbed his muzzle and put his paws inside his pockets. The shark looked left and right as he examined the crowd, closely analyzing everyone walking into the stores and into the trains. A huge, grayish-green train pulled into the station and stopped with a noisy hiss. Once the train’s doors opened, Doug stepped forward and looked at all the people walking out, checking to see if anyone was wearing the green fedora. Douglas grumbled as he rubbed his snout and checked to see where Rast was. He frowned when he spotted the rat walking outside of a pretzel shop, noisily munching on the giant chunk of dough.

“Rast, we’re supposed to be looking for the contact, not stopping to eat—”

Rast munched on his giant pretzel before he nodded and pointed forward. Up ahead beside the same train that just stopped, a portly raccoon was standing near one of the benches clad in a blue jacket and jeans, along with a green fedora. The raccoon spotted them and nodded before gesturing for them to get on the train. Douglas groaned.

“Damn. Hurry up; he wants us to get on the train.”

Douglas exhaled as he jogged towards the train alongside Rast. Both of them pushed their way through the civilians and quickly slid inside of the train along with the raccoon. Douglas exhaled as he got on the train, only to gasp and turn back around.

“Shit! We didn’t get a tick—”

The doors hissed and closed. Douglas looked back at the station as the train began to depart. The shark exhaled as he looked around the train and saw the ticket master slowly wandering around the train cars, checking to see who had the tickets and who snuck on board the train. Douglas groaned as he looked at the elderly ticket master and breathed deeply.

“Go find Mr. Fedora. I’ll handle this.”

Rast nodded and shoveled the rest of the pretzel in his maw. “Gotcha.”

Douglas dug into his pocket and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill as soon as the ticket master walked up to the giant fish and looked up at him.

“Ticket, please.”

Doug nodded. “Oh, sure, yeah. Here you go,” the shark said, waving a bill in front of the man’s face.

The man looked at the dollar bill, and then flicked his eyes over at the shark again. “Ticket, please.”

_Fine. We’ll play your game._ The shark dug into his pocket again and pulled out a second hundred-dollar bill. He waved both of them in front of the ticket master and smirked.

“Ticket, please, or I may have to alert the authorities.”

“Oh my go—” Douglas snarled and pulled out eight more hundred-dollar bills. He shoved them in front of the ticket master’s face.

“Here you go,” Douglas snarled.

The ticket master looked at the hundred-dollar bills. And then he looked at Douglas and smirked.

“Ticket—”

Douglas leaned forward and snarled, baring his serrated teeth and drooling a bit. The ticket master suddenly changed his expression and swiftly snagged all of Doug’s money, shortly before he walked away and resumed checking the other passengers for their tickets. Douglas exhaled before he headed into the same car that Rast walked inside and shut the door. They were in the dining car at the moment, and a few riders were getting situated as they sat down at their tables or booths and started looking at the menus. Douglas walked along the blue carpet and calmly moved past anyone still arranging their bags and suitcases before he spotted Rast sitting down at a booth across from the raccoon wearing the fedora. Rast turned around and waved Douglas over, and the burly shark sat down beside Rast.

“You made it,” the raccoon said softly.

“Let’s hurry up and get this over with. Where are the flash drives?”

The raccoon cleared his throat. “The ‘items’ are well-hidden on this train. That’s all you need to know. Where’s the money?”

“The ‘money’ is well-hidden within my bank account,” Douglas replied, mocking the raccoon. “You will receive payment once we see—”

“Once you give me back my fucking videos,” Rast snarled.

Douglas looked at Rast’s scowl and blinked before he nudged him and gestured him to calm down. The shark took a huge breath as he looked at the raccoon and started talking.

“So how do you wanna do this?”

The raccoon shrugged. “Easy! You transfer the cash to my bank account, I hand you the—”

“Uh-uh. _You_ hand me _my_ flash drives! Then we’ll give you the cash,” said Rast.

“What my associate here means is,” Doug interjected, “we don’t trust you. You invaded my colleague’s home, injured him, and stole his property. He has every right to be offended. You also requested an absurd amount of money from him—money you _know_ he does not possess, as evidenced by his clothing.”

Douglas paused for a moment so he could grin at Rast’s scowl. Then he turned and stared at the raccoon again and resumed talking.

“Point is, you have proven to be an inconvenience to _both_ of us, me especially. Why shouldn’t we just kill you and your cohorts?”

The raccoon smirked. “Perhaps because if you do, all those videos will be sent to the police.”

Douglas grinned and shook his head. “Try again. You won’t call the cops—not without exposing yourselves. And if you did, you wouldn’t get a dime from either of us, which renders this entire plan moot. So let’s…finish this deal, get on our way, and then we’ll have a nice, relaxing train ride for the next few hours.”

The raccoon turned and looked at Rast. “Whatcha do with those flash drives anyway? Beat off to ‘em?”

“I sell ‘em online.”

“Oh,” said the raccoon softly. “I wasn’t aware that you need the whole world to know how desperate you are.”

Douglas kept his mouth shut. He flicked his eyes between Rast and the raccoon multiple times, watching as the rat’s left eye twitched.

“So what, you…you kidnap men and you butt-fuck ‘em because you’re too much of an outcast to get your own date? And then you kill ‘em so there’s no witnesses?”

Rast growled. “No. that-that’s not—”

“I heard you ranting on the videos. Heard you moaning like a fat-ass bitch. You scream louder than your victims do, d’you know that? You must really enjoy—”

“Gimme my fuckin’ videos,” Rast snarled, clenching his right paw into a fist. “Now.”

“Or what? You gonna kidnap me too, Cheese Breath? You gonna butt-fuck me and carve my body to bits? Why don’t you come across this table and do it right now, in front of everyone here? If you’re so ‘proud’ of your ‘art’ that you must make videos of it, then perhaps you should let everyone on this train see how you _really_ act around people.”

Douglas frowned when he noticed that Rast was thumping his tail against the booth and grinding his claws against the table. _Jesus Christ. This idiot acts crazier than some rabid dog._ Comforting the rodent, Doug reached over and placed a big hand on his left shoulder.

“Stay calm. We do not need to cause a scene.”

“No…n-no, no. Of course not. Of _course_ not. People don’t like it when you cause a scene. People don’t like it when you speak your mind. People don’t like it when you—when you express yourself. So no, I won’t attack you, because that’s not ‘acceptable.’ That’s considered ‘bad behavior.’”

The raccoon chuckled. “Ohhhhhh, let me guess, you’re another one of them angsty college pups who’s trying to strike out against the world, against society. These tapes—this is just you giving society the middle finger? That’s it?”

Rast snorted. “Let me ask you something: did you know who I was _before_ you saw those vids? Hmm? Did you know I spent all my time working valiantly at my job, that I study hard in college, that I make good grades?”

“Nope.”

Rast exhaled as he chuckled and leaned back into the booth. “Nah. But you’re curious about me now, aren’t ya? That’s how it all works, don’t it? Everyone tells you be nice, do good in school, help others! And yet the second I start doing the exact _opposite_ of that, suddenly people are interested in me.”

Rast sucked his teeth before he grinned at the raccoon. “Ain’t that somethin’?”

The shark rubbed his snout. “So. If you two are done playing with each other, we have business to conduct.”

The raccoon shook his head. “I’m not showing you the flash drives until you agree to give me the money first.”

Douglas exhaled and stood up. “Okay! We’re done here.”

_Fuck all this. Let me see what kind of drinks they serve on this train…_

“Ah—Doug!”

“You’re giving me my mon—”

“I don’t care about _your_ money, and I don’t care about _your_ flash drives. And if you can’t sit here and trust us enough to at least _show_ us where the flash drives are, then we have no deal. So,”

Doug grunted as he walked over to the bar and sat on one of the stools, moving his thick tail. “I’m gonna order a drink or two.”

Douglas spun around in the stool and looked at the human bartender before he looked at the large selection of wines, champagnes, and other alcoholic drinks to choose from. He was just about to order something when the raccoon beckoned him.

“Okay, okay! I’ll…I’ll show you.”

Doug raised a hand, signaling the bartender to hold off on making him a drink. Then he stood up and walked back over to the table and booth. He glared at the raccoon and snorted. “Show us.”

The raccoon paused for a moment. Then he dug into his coat and fished out a walkie-talkie so he could relay a message to one of his partners. After doing so, Douglas looked back and forth, checking to see where the raccoon’s partner was. Up ahead, the sliding door leading to another car slid open, and a large wolf wearing a loose-fitting jacket walked into the train car carrying a shoe box with him. Douglas swallowed and exhaled with relief as he saw the canine approaching them. Without even asking, the wolf slid the top off the box, revealing Rast’s assortment of flash drives still intact. Doug moved over to the booth and sat down across from the raccoon, who was now scowling at him and Rast.

“Y’see? That wasn’t difficult, now was it?”

The raccoon exhaled. “Okay, you’ve seen the drives. Now fucking pay us.”

Douglas dug into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. _Sooner this shit is done, the better_ , he thought. The shark requested for the raccoon’s account and routing number. Shortly after he received it, he inputted the information into his bank account as he created a transfer order. It only took the giant fish a few minutes to get all the funds from his bank and into the raccoon’s account. When he finished, the raccoon checked his bank account as well just to confirm that he acquired the funds.

“Happy?”

The raccoon chuckled. “Absolutely! We’re ten million dollars richer!”

Douglas frowned. “I only sent you five million.”

“I know,” the raccoon replied, grinning.

“So then why did you say ten million?” Rast asked, reaching for the salt shaker.

“Well…turns out we made another deal worth five million bucks once it’s complete!”

Doug caught it before the wolf even said it. He spotted the wolf and raccoon reaching into their jackets, and the shark immediately went on alert.

“Seamus sends his regards,” the wolf growled, before tossing the box into an empty booth and taking out a black handgun.

_Goddamn it._ Without thinking, the shark shoved the table forward, slamming it against the raccoon’s midriff so hard that he cracked some of his ribs. The raccoon shouted as his body flailed, but he fired off a shot anyway just as Doug leaned to his left. The bullet hit the booth where Doug’s body was only a second ago, just as the wolf fired. However, before the wolf could kill Doug, Rast chucked the salt shaker at his face, throwing off his aim just enough to prevent him from shooting the shark. Screaming and shouting ensued, people started ducking and hiding, and more gunshots went off. Douglas sprang to his feet and bellowed as he charged for the wolf, knocking his arm out the way before he punched him in the throat. The wolf gagged and coughed, giving Douglas enough time to run forward so he could jam his thumbs into the canine’s eyes. The wolf howled in agony as he dropped his gun, and then Doug shoved him to the floor. He turned and looked at the raccoon, and was surprised to see that Rast had lunged across the table and was biting out the raccoon’s right eye. After all the squealing and thrashing stopped, the raccoon slowed down, and Rast jerked his head back, taking off a part of the raccoon’s face with it. He spat on the floor before panting and rolling his tongue around his mouth. Then the rat opened his mouth, and Douglas could see that one of his teeth was missing.

“Shit,” Rast mumbled as he moved some fingers around his mouth.

“Get the gun!” Doug shouted.

Rast shut his mouth and wiped his maw. “What?!”

“GET HIS—”

Douglas shouted and dropped to the floor, snatching up the wolf’s handgun as a series of bullets poured into the car. Some of the civilians were caught in the crossfire and mowed down immediately—much to Doug’s relief. _Fuck it_ , Doug thought. _Can’t have any witnesses_. Doug could see a few sharply-dressed passengers hiding beneath the tables. He pointed his gun at them and fired multiple times until all the screaming stopped. When the sliding door from the rear car opened up, Doug shouted as he fired at two possums carrying assault rifles. Both of them collapsed on top of each other, and Douglas swore once he realized they were wearing body armor. 

“HEAD! SHOOT ‘EM—”

Rast huffed and sprinted over to the possums, shooting them both in the forehead before they could get back up. _Good. This pup isn’t that stupid after all._ After Rast shot the possums, he winced and shook his right paw.

“Fuck! Is it supposed to feel like that?”

Doug growled. “You’ve never shot a gun before?!”

“Look, not everyone—”

“Fucking—just cover me! I’ll get the rifles!”

Doug rushed for one assault rifle with a sling on it and threw it onto his body. Panting, he grabbed the second rifle and carried it with both hands firmly, aiming down his sights as he prepared to enter the car behind him. He looked through the glass window between the two doors and spotted at least three other anthros inside of the car holding automatic weapons. Douglas took a deep breath before he slid the doors open and ran into the car with Rast trailing behind him. He immediately ducked as someone fired from their submachine gun, hitting one of the passengers instead. Then Doug squeezed the trigger of the assault rifle, firing off two bursts and hitting one of the assailants in the face. The large bear shouted while the other two assailants hid behind a wall. Doug sprinted forward and did the same, crouching down and checking to see how much ammo he had left in the magazine. Doug wiped his forehead before he looked at Rast and saw him shuddering as he clutched onto his handgun tightly.

“COVER ME!” Doug shouted over the gunfire.

“W-WHAT?!”

“I SAID COVER ME!”

Douglas peered around the corner of his barrier and yelped when a series of bullets shredded through part of the wall. Another passenger grunted as she was caught in the crossfire, while everyone else kept screaming. Doug waited until the gunfire stopped, and that’s when Rast and Doug struck. Rast fired at the left while Doug shot at the right. When Rast’s gunfire stopped, Doug sprinted forward and headed for the location where both assailants were. One of them—a German Shepherd—looked out to see if Rast and Doug were still shooting, and Doug promptly shot him in the face. As soon as he went down, the other assailant—a Rottweiler—appeared as well, only to get shot in the arm and abdomen by Rast. Doug watched as the canine stumbled and nearly fell, and he walked out into the corridor and finished him off. He heard clicking from behind and turned to see Rast fidgeting with his gun. 

“I’m guessing it’s empty,” Doug said matter-of-factly.

The shark exhaled as he searched the canines’ pockets and found two more handguns. He tossed both of them over to Rast before standing up and exhaling.

“Get rid of the passengers! Imma clear out the next car!”

Doug saw Rast nod before he started aiming for the cowering passengers. He listened to him execute a few of them as he turned and ran down the corridor and entered the second-to-last car where some of the private rooms were. He took a few deep breaths as he braced himself against the wooden wall, listening to footsteps from within the car. He could hear some whimpering and smelled various different species as he looked inside his clip again to check his ammo. Swearing softly, Doug peered around the corner before he quickly popped out into the corridor and started to walk past the first set of doors. He fired into the door on his left before spinning around and shooting through the door on his right. Instinctively, he threw himself backwards, knocking down the door and entering the bedroom. Pointing the rifle at the corridor, he waited for the next assailants to run out into the open. Another raccoon sprinted right for the open door, and shouted when Douglas shot at his midriff and face. Realizing he was empty, Doug held the rifle like it was a bat, just as someone stuffed the barrel of their gun into the room.

Douglas shouted and smacked the butt of his rifle against the barrel of the assailant’s weapon, knocking it downwards so the assailant would shoot at the floor. Before he had time to recover, Doug stepped out into the hall and whacked the possum in the side of his skull. He grunted as blood erupted from his head, moments before Doug swung the gun against the possum’s head over and over again, cracking the skull and damaging the brain. He dropped the gun and crouched down just as someone appeared from the bedroom. It turned out to be a civilian, who immediately shouted and stuck her head back into her room. Another possum showed up from the end of the hallway sprinting forward and shooting. Douglas held his second rifle on the sling and shot the creature in his kneecaps, watching as he fell faster than a tree while he moaned in agony. He watched as the beast writhed around on the floor in pain for a moment, and then shot him in the skull. Sweating and breathing so hard his gills moved, Douglas stood up and aimed his assault rifle at the bedroom doors, spraying them all with his entire clip. Once he finished, he kicked open all the doors and looked inside to see who had been hiding in them.

All he found were a few dead civilians, and a wounded wolf who was struggling to lift his shotgun. Douglas snatched the weapon from his paws before blasting the wolf’s face off with the gun and dropping his empty assault rifle. The shark wiped some sweat off his face before he entered the hallway again and acquired more weapons, namely two submachine guns and a pistol. He ran back into the third car and reunited with Rast, who had blood all over his face and clothes.

“You got ‘em?” Rast asked.

The panting shark nodded before he handed the handgun to the rat. “Don’t got time for this shit. Follow me; we’re gonna finish this.”

Rast nodded after taking the gun and followed Doug as he jogged back into the dining room. He looked at all of the bodies and took out the gray submachine gun, checking the clip before he gestured for Rast to shoot all the corpses in the head, just in case. Once Rast finished, Doug scowled when he saw the rat grab his shoe box and sigh with relief.

“Don’t you wanna get that _later_?”

Rast huffed. “No. This ain’t leaving my sight until we’re done.”

_Of course it ain’t._ When they traveled into the next car that was closer to the driver’s car, Douglas didn’t bother waiting. He raised his submachine gun and sprayed the entire car, shooting at all of the seats and aiming for any of the assailants who were standing out in the open. All of the civilians screamed or grunted as they were shot or grazed with the bullets; anyone who wasn’t immediately killed was finished off by Rast. Some of the assailants hid behind cover, but were still hit in the arm or leg before they had time to hide. When Douglas exhausted all of his ammo, he dropped the gun and used the shotgun instead. The shark pointed at a weak wall one canine was hiding behind and fired. A crimson-colored mist erupted from the covering, and the dog slouched down to the floor, his spine ruptured. The last assailant still alive was lying on his back moaning after catching two bullets. Doug walked up to this head and pointed the shotgun in his mouth, and then blew off a good chunk of his skull.

“Two cars left. You good, pup?”

Rast nodded. “I’m fine.”

Douglas nodded as he slid open the door leading to the next car. And then shouted when someone fired through the glass screen of the second door, hitting Doug in his side. The shark shouted and stumbled away, panting and swearing as he looked at the tear in his dress shirt and the small amount of blood that was running down his midriff. Rast swore as well and started to fire into the next car, dropping his box for a moment and shooting erratically, hoping to take out the assailants. Still fueled with adrenaline, Douglas snarled as he held his submachine gun and stormed into the next car, regrouping with Rast as the rat crouched down behind a series of seats. Once more, Douglas sprayed the entire car with the submachine gun, not caring whether or not he hit the assailants or any of the civilians. When he ran out of ammo a second time, he dropped the gun and immediately crouched down behind some of the seats, shoving aside a dead passenger he just shot. The shark listened to automatic fire from an assault rifle and waited until the assailant had to reload. When the shooting stopped, Doug grunted and stood up, armed with the shotgun again. He could see part of the assailant’s tail and leg against the corner of the wall and promptly fired at the wall several times. Some of the pellets nicked the assailant’s flesh, causing him to groan and stumble.

He popped out of his hiding spot in an attempt to shoot Doug, but the shark got him first, blasting him in the chest with the shotgun pellets. Once he went down, the panting shark ran forward, only to limp once he reached the next door leading to the second-to-last car. He slid open the doors and headed inside with Rast following him from behind, surprised to see that the car was empty. Most of it was just regular rooms such as a supply closet and bathroom, and Doug could see from the reinforced door up ahead that they were about to enter the engineer’s main cabin. Doug aimed the shotgun at the door’s lock and fired at it multiple times, weakening the door itself. Then he shouted as he forced his body into the door several times, slowly breaking the doorframe and the lock itself. Eventually, the doorframe cracked just enough for the lock to break, and the door swung open. The engineer dropped his radio and turned around, holding his hands up.

“I already called the authorities,” the engineer said. “They’re storming this train as soon as we stop at the next station. And we’re going too fast for you to jump off. Ju-just…just drop your weapon and may—”

Doug shot him in the face and watched as his head blew apart. The human’s body toppled to the floor, and then the shark snorted and spat on his cadaver. He limped over to the control system and looked at all of the buttons, checking to see whether or not the engineer disabled access to the controls before alerting the authorities.

“How the fuck are we supposed to get off the train?! You-you got some helicopter or maybe—”

Douglas snarled viciously as he spun around and punched Rast in the muzzle so hard he almost broke his nose, and Rast dropped his box and gun. As the rat lied on the floor, Douglas huffed and looked at the controls again. Sighing with relief, he grabbed the handle controlling the train’s speed and moved it backwards, decelerating. The shark listened to the train as it began to slow down, screeching noisily as the wheels grinded against the metal railway. When the train had slowed down enough, he smashed his hand on the emergency stop button, and then held onto the engineer’s seat as the train screeched even more and slid to a halt in only ten seconds. Suddenly, everything went quiet, short of steam hissing from outside and the sound of Rast breathing softly on the floor. Douglas groaned as he held his midriff again and felt the warm blood moving down his body. 

“Ow…fuck you do that for?”

Furious, Doug stomped over to Rast and kicked him in the face as he sat up, fully breaking his nose this time. Then he shouted as he stomped and kicked his body, his giant right foot pounding down on Rast’s chest, stomach, and groin as though someone was smacking a hammer against the rat’s body. Rast shouted and squeaked in pain as Douglas assaulted him, but the shark didn’t care. This was his fault. His stupid obsession over the flash drives brought them here. His incompetence to check and make sure no one was spying on him led to him getting caught. And his inability to hide his drives in a secure location resulted in them getting stolen. _All these young, imprudent, egotistical fucks_ , Doug thought. _Gonna be the death of me, I fucking swear._

“I FUCKING TOLD YOU! I fucking told you Seamus would do something like this!”

Douglas was about to stomp on Rast again, but his adrenaline was gone, and the pain was setting in. He backed away from the whimpering rat and leaned against the wall, wincing as he dropped his weapon and grasped his side. He lifted his shirt and looked at the bullet wound before reaching behind and feeling a second hole. He exhaled, glad that the bullet went all the way through and didn’t lodge itself against any bones or vital organs. Meanwhile, Rast sniffled as he slowly rolled over and got on his paws and knees, shaking.

“Sorry…I’m sor—”

“Fuck you. You see what Seamus does? Lookit all this shit!”

Doug frowned when he saw Rast spit on the floor, and then he looked up at him and snarled. “ _Seamus_ did this? Seamus put a…he-he put a gun to your head and told you to shoot all these people? I don’t recall you being _forced_ to kill everyone on this train!”

“And the last time I checked, I don’t recall you stopping me. In fact, you willingly—no, _happily_ joined in! So don’t take that tone with me!”

Rast groaned as he slowly got up to his footpaws and leaned against the wall, spiting again. “Guess we’re both assholes, eh?”

Douglas winced again before he looked around the control car and scanned the area. He walked over into the engineer’s room and gazed outside. The sun was starting to set. Nothing was around him to the left or the right of the train except for endless fields of thick trees. They had passed one of the main roads that cars had stopped in front of several minutes ago. As Douglas explored the engineer’s room, he found a large binder set up on one of the shelves and snatched it, checking to see all the train logs for the rest of the night that were on the same course as the BR97.

“The train’s stopped…c’mon, let’s get the fuck outta here,” Rast said.

“No. We can’t take the chance of this train being found with all these people shot up. DNA, footprints—both of us left saliva or blood on the floor and walls.”

“We can’t exactly ‘hide’ a train, genius.”

“We don’t need to, _genius_. We just have to throw a shroud over this whole situation.”

“And how the fuck do we do that? The conductor already called for help.”

“Simple,” said Douglas, exhaling as he pointed at a train with various refrigerator cars on it. “It’s the CV20. Big ol’ freight train that’s supplying food out to the troops in the west.”

“What about it?”

Doug shut the binder and tossed it on the floor. “Welp. Seems like we’re on the same track as the CV20. It’s hundreds of miles behind us; there’s a series of tracks up ahead that it’s supposed to switch off at. I’m gonna make sure it doesn’t reach that point.”

“How?”

Douglas shrugged. “Pop this train in reverse. At max speed. Either the train derails and blocks the CV20’s path, or both trains will collide, lead to a colossal crash, kill everyone on the CV20, ruin the entire shipment. Millions upon _millions_ of pounds of produce, fish, dairy products, juice, MREs—all gone.”

Rast frowned as he looked around at the engineer’s body and the bullet holes in the walls. “Someone’s gonna notice that the bodies on this train got bullet holes in ‘em. They’re gonna know someone gunned down these passengers, even if the bodies are ripped apart.”

Douglas grinned. “That’s the beauty of it! A passenger train colliding with a freight train supplying food to soldiers? Everyone’s gonna immediately think one of two things: this was a terrorist attack, or this was an attack by enemy soldiers who snuck inland and are trying to break our troops’ morale. What better way to do that than by destroying a train filling their grumbling bellies and supplying them with water to keep ‘em from overheating in the desert? No one’s gonna care about two anthros who got on a train but weren’t seen getting off.”

Douglas smirked when he saw Rast chuckle and shake his head, almost in admiration. He sucked on his teeth for a moment before growling and smirking himself.

“How the hell are you _this_ smart?”

Douglas exhaled. “When you see an opportunity, you take it, pup. Once you learn how to think quickly on your feet, manipulating a situation to your advantage is as simple as breathing. Now…get the door open. I’m gonna put the train in reverse and we’re gonna hop out.”

Rast nodded. “Gotcha.”

As the rat went ahead and opened one of the side doors, Doug limped into the control room and restarted the engine, putting the train in reverse. The wheels slowly began to roll backwards as the train rumbled, and Doug quickly jogged his way to the side door where Rast was standing. Doug rolled his eyes when he saw Rast holding his box of flash drives, but he chose to keep his mouth shut. The rat jumped out of the train, followed by Douglas, who stumbled and fell before he grabbed his sides again. They both turned around and watched as the train started to move backwards, moments before Rast looked up at the shark and sniffed.

“So what are we gonna do about Seamus? Should I kill him?”

Douglas grinned. “Not yet. We’ll let him sit on this…I’m sure he’ll hear about his failure and that he lost all his men.”

“But won’t he come after us again?”

Douglas exhaled. “When you’re sixty years old, you pick up a few things, and you wanna know the most important thing I learned, even moreso than manipulating situations to my advantage?”

“What?”

Douglas turned and glared at Rast. “I never got to where I am now without fucking people over.”


	9. Screwed Over

“Mm. It’s a shame, ain’t it?”

Rast leaned against the counter beside the giant shark in his yellow dress shirt and blue slacks. Both of them had their arms folded and were staring at the television set that was dangling from the ceiling. The rat rubbed his nose and winced, his muzzle still partially sore after Doug broke his nose. Meanwhile, Douglas sipped on a cup of hot chocolate.

“Indeed. Fifty or more casualties, two massive derails, billions of dollars lost—”

“Fuck all that,” Rast interrupted. “Lookit how much peanut butter and cheese got spilled in that crash!”

Some of the customers inside Big Piggies looked at Rast and glared at him. _Damn it_ , the rat thought. _You have to be sympathetic, remember? You can’t express your real thoughts out in public._

“Of course…the food in general is a tragedy. Gonna be a lot harder for our troops to have their…morale…without all that food satisfying them.”

_God, I’m so tired of this shit._ Rast looked at the customers inside the shop and turned away. It was daytime now, and Doug’s store was open, so neither of them could discuss their former deals and meetings out in the open. Rast stared outside the glass door as he heard more police cars speeding down the street. No matter how many times he saw them, no matter how often he saw the police nonchalantly shopping for tools inside the home improvement and appliance warehouse he worked inside, he always thought that one day, they’d finally come for him. He thought about it several times, thinking about how he’d be arrested, how he’d be subdued, possibly even killed by them. But he couldn’t get arrested—not yet, not when he was only a small blip on the radar. People were still talking about Mitchum Cooley, and now that this “tragedy” was on every news station, the media would be going on and on about terrorism and the country’s inability to support its troops. Rast rubbed his nose and relaxed as the cars finally drove away, and then turned to face Douglas.

“Listen, Doug, we need to talk about my friend. Y’know, the pig?”

“Hmm? Oh yes, him! Hehe, I hear that he has some repugnant foot odor and doesn’t want to scare away the customers?”

Rast watched as some of the customers scowled and walked away. He turned and looked at Doug as he tossed his empty cup of hot chocolate into a trash can.

“That’s right! He’s…well, he’s kinda shy about the whole thing. But I know what kind of shoes he wants and everything! Those blue ones up there, size seventeen.”

_Christ, can’t believe I’m doing this shit. Stupid shoes. Fucking abominations created by humans._ Rast bit his lip to keep himself from talking aloud and watched as Doug grabbed the shoes off the shelf. He scanned the tag on the pair against the register before he set them into a box behind the counter. Rast looked at the price of the shoes and dug into his wallet, yanking out four twenty-dollar bills.

“Here ya go,” he said nonchalantly.

Doug took the money and rang up the shoes. Rast watched as the shark winced a bit and rubbed his side where he was shot a few days ago, but he quickly ignored the pain and resumed bagging the shoes for Rast. The cash register printed out a receipt, and Doug ripped it off before lowering it behind the register. At the same time, Doug grabbed something from within the register and slid it beneath the receipt.

“Here you are!” Doug said, handing the receipt and a small note to the rat.

Rast grabbed the receipt and the note, flipping the receipt over so he could look at the shark’s writing. On it was an address that Rast needed to go to, and the rat sniffed before looking up at Doug’s face.

“Hope your friend enjoys the shoes!”

Rast noticed something was off about Douglas. He knew the shark was playing as a friendly cashier—as he should—but the way he was smiling at him seemed off, even for him. He was leaning forward over the counter slightly, almost as if he was restraining himself from pouncing on him. He looked like some hungry predator waiting for its prey to walk into a trap. Rast stood for a moment and waited to see if Doug would change his expression. There was a long pause, and then he leaned back and went to examining some of the online orders he received in the past few days. Rast grabbed the bag and stuffed the receipt into his pocket before he slowly walked out of the store, feeling somewhat exposed.

“Smug bastard,” Rast said softly.

____________________________________

Later that afternoon, Rast was walking alongside Seamus and a few of his cronies, all of whom were armed with weapons. The address Douglas gave Rast led to an abandoned street just outside of town that was full of condemned buildings and disheveled houses. Rast and Seamus noticed that the area was mostly populated by Hispanics and African-Americans—which Rast assumed was the point. After all this was over, the police would write off the impending death as an assassination from a rival gang. Rast walked beside the corpulent pig, glancing at his long, yellow basketball shorts and his matching yellow jersey. Rast sniffed the air for a moment before his ears twitched and he heard loud trickling. Then the rat looked down at Seamus’ shorts with disgust and saw fluids dripping from them, all while Seamus smirked.

“Dude…are you seriously pissing yourself?”

Seamus chuckled as he stopped for a moment so he could shake his legs and kick urine off his feet. Then he exhaled.

“I wore yellow today fer a reason!”

Rast groaned as he shook his head and resumed walking. “How in the fuck did you get a career serving food to people?”

Seamus shrugged. “If you smother enough sugar and salt on shit, people will like it!”

_Okay, from this point on, don’t ever eat from Porky’s again._ Rast groaned as he shook his head slowly and rubbed his muzzle.

“So where’s this fucker s’posed to be, huh? Fuck’s he doing in this part of town?”

“Doug said he needed to meet someone here. Perfect time to ambush him.”

Seamus snorted as he glared at a group of black people talking to each other in front of someone’s house. He scowled.

“Good. Getting tired of bein’ ‘round all these niggers.”

Rast huffed. “Okay, what’s the point in that? It’s a slur that didn’t even originate on Tero. Why do you keep using it?”

“Why the fuck not?! S’what they are!”

“They’re human beings with brown skin. I don’t really understand—”

“Sounds to me like you’re in love with them niggers! S’bad enough you fuck humans—you fuck them niggers too?”

Rast scowled. “You’re not being edgy. You’re not being cool. You’re not making a point. You’re not even being offensive. What you’re doing is _annoying_. It’s old. No one cares about slurs against humans anymore. You’re just saying that word because you _can_. It’s no different from how you just pissed yourself a moment ago; you did it because you _can_. But there’s no purpose behind it. So why the fuck do you keep doing it?”

Seamus glared at Rast and grinned. “You said it yourself, pup! ‘Cause I can! Same reason why you go ‘round raping and killing all those people.”

Rast snarled. “The reason why I do that—”

“Is because you’re ‘edgy!’ You’re coooooooooool! You’re one of the bad boys now! You’re gonna make history; you gonna be famous as one of the baddest rat bastards in all of Tero! That’s what you want, right Cheese-Breath? You wanna show the world how much of a badass you are!”

Rast bared his teeth. “You’re mocking me.”

“No shit, pup. I do shit for money. Doug does shit for money. You do shit because you _think_ you’re full of yourself, when you really _shouldn’t_. So you can stand there and lecture me like your snooty rich-bitch scholars, but you’re no better than I am! I’m diarrhea! You’re that big-ass chunk of shit with peppers and bits of food clinging onto ya! But we’re both shit, Rast. Remember that.”

_Don’t say anything. Do not say anything. Do not say a word. This cocksucker will be dead in a few minutes. Then I won’t have to listen to his crap any longer._ The rat sniffled twice and rubbed his nose just as Seamus, Rast, and Seamus’ goons all arrived at a set of tall buildings not far from a factory that recently closed down. The air was heavy with smoke and metallic debris, along with various truck fumes. Seamus turned and looked at a truck that drove down the street while Rast looked around inside the buildings and grinned to himself. He was praying he’d see a flicker in one of the tall windows or a partial portion of a sniper rifle. But there was nothing out of the ordinary, except for the fact that no one was walking on the street anymore. Seamus took a few steps forward and looked at the alleyway up ahead. Nothing was inside of it except for trash and a fire escape ladder.

“Rast…where exactly did Doug said he’d be having this deal?”

“I told you,” Rast lied. “Right down this alley.”

“I don’t see him, shit-fuck! What time—” Seamus snarled and shook his head. “Fuck this. Let’s head over to that shoe store! Maybe he’s down there.”

“I’m telling you—”

It didn’t sound real at first. Rast thought that he was standing right next to the assailants firing the guns; the noise was so loud. Two of Seamus’ men grunted and jerked around as they were pelted with bullets. They collapsed onto the ground, seconds before Rast shrieked when several bullet holes abruptly appeared at the ground near his footpaws.

“FUCK! RUN!”

“SHIT!”

“GO, GO, GO!”

Rast took out his handgun and sprinted alongside Seamus and the rest of his gang, all while the assailants continued to fire at them from disclosed locations. Seamus and a possum in his gang fired erratically at some of the windows in the distance, hoping to hit at least one of the assailants. The rat shouted as he quickly threw himself behind a set of trash bins, all while Seamus and his crew crouched down behind a dumpster. Panting, Rast peeked out into the open and shouted when another series of bullets swarmed his way. He waited for the hailstorm of pellets to stop before he peeked out again and saw a few Hispanics and African-Americans walking out into the middle of the street wearing body armor and carrying assault rifles.

“The hell did you walk us into, pup?!”

“I DON’T KNOW!”

It was supposed to be simple, a mere bullet to the back of Seamus’ head. He wasn’t told about these two gangs. He didn’t know they were both gunning for them. And he certainly didn’t expect to get caught in the middle of it. Rast panted as he noticed all the assailants slowly advancing on them and holding all of their weapons firmly, cornering them into the alley. Suddenly, one of Seamus’ men rose from behind the dumpster and shouted as he fired his submachine gun at all of the gangsters. Some of the members shouted or groaned as they fell to the ground while others started to take cover. The panting possum grunted as he crouched down again and shivered.

“There’s a car across the street! If we get to it, we can get out of here!”

Rast snorted. “You’re saying we should run out into the middle of all this gunfire to get away?!”

Rast panted as he looked up to his right and saw a door leading into a restaurant. Rast reached up and started to grip the handle, seconds before he shouted and realized it was locked. The rat pointed his gun at the lock and shot at it twice, watching as the door’s handle rattled and broke. Rast wrenched the door open before gesturing for Seamus to follow him.

“C’mon! You two, stay out here; we’ll flank ‘em!”

Rast looked at the pig’s smirk, moments before the pig pointed his submachine gun into the crowd and fired again. Rast opened up the door and crawled inside the building, with Seamus and the possum quickly following Rast inside. All three of them hid their guns as they entered the restaurant, noticing that some of the people inside were hiding and calling 911, much to Seamus’ annoyance.

“Rast, see ‘em?”

“Yeah,” the rat said, taking out his handgun. “They’re witnesses.”

Seamus smirked as he held up his submachine gun. “Are they?”

The trio held out their guns and pointed them at everyone inside the restaurant. Incessant screaming was quickly drowned out with incessant gunfire. In only a matter of seconds, the restaurant grew quiet, and the building was littered with bodies of various human beings and anthros. Everyone panted as they reloaded their weapons and ran outside of the shop. They were still on the opposite side of the street, but they were several yards to the right of the alleyway—which was the only location the gang members were focusing on. But none of them noticed the trio as they exited the restaurant, which made it easier for them to flank the gangsters as they sprinted across the street so they could hide behind some of the parked cars. Rast crouched down near a blue mailbox while he peeked around the corner and could see that the assailants were only a few yards away now. He panted as he gestured for the possum and pig to move forward, and they nodded. Once they were close enough, the trio pointed their guns at the gang members and fired multiple times, hitting as many of them as possible. Four men went down, while another two swore in Spanish and took cover behind one of their own cars. 

“TOLS! GET OUT—”

The possum grunted as he was shot twice and fell down. Seamus hopped over his body before he let out a burst of gunfire around one of the parked cars. He heard his gun click multiple times and removed the empty magazine.

“Shit—I’M OUT! COVER ME; I’M HEADING TOWARDS THE CAR!”

Rast didn’t have time to say anything else before Seamus ran out into the open and rushed for one of the gangsters’ cars. Rast swore as he saw two gangsters gunning for Seamus and the opossum who was still hiding behind the dumpster in the alley. The kangaroo who had been firing alongside the opossum had been shot while Rast was in the restaurant. Rast shouted as he fired at the gangsters a few more times, hitting one of them in the shoulder while hitting another in his abdomen. Rast ran out of ammo and sprinted forward, running towards one of the dead thugs and picking up two handguns he dropped on the ground. He shot the two wounded thugs in the forehead afterwards, just as he heard a car engine starting. Just behind Rast, the rat saw another SUV heading down the street. In the distance, the rodent thought he heard sirens and frowned; he looked at the car Seamus was inside and heard the engine turning on. He sprinted for the car and reached for the door, only to realize that it was locked.

“Ah—SEAMUS! UNLOCK THE DOOR!”

The wheels screeched as the pig was about to drive away, only for one of the windows to shatter. Seamus shouted as he ducked inside the car, giving Rast enough time to shoot out two of the windows. He threw himself inside of the car’s backseat, along with the opossum, and then Seamus shouted as he sat up and slammed his foot on the gas pedal. The car gunned forward, screeching and leaving skid marks on the road.

“What the fuck, Seamus?! You almost left us!” the opossum cried.

“I-I thought you were dead, Tinlil! Not my fault—”

“BULLSHIT! You knew damn well we weren’t—”

The rearview window exploded. The trio shouted as they ducked and listened to bullets pelting their car, almost as though someone was throwing dozens of pebbles or rocks against the metal exterior. Rast panted and shouted as Seamus took a sharp left, nearly tipping over the car from turning so hard. Rast grunted as Tinlil jerked his arm backwards and aimed outside the broken rearview window, swearing as he fired from his handgun multiple times as he damaged the SUV that was chasing after them. Rast imitated the opossum, only to scream when another series of bullets pelted the car and nearly hit Seamus as well. The pig swore multiple times as he veered off the road and drove on the sidewalk, not caring about the amount of civilians he ran over with the car. Rast grunted as he felt the car vibrating and bumping each time someone rolled over the top of the vehicle or was mowed down beneath the tires. The rat exhaled as he sat up again and resumed firing, only to hear two clicks.

“Damn it!”

Before Rast could even shout it, Seamus tossed another gun in the backseat. Rast looked out the broken window and gasped when he noticed that the SUV was already only a few meters away from them and driving parallel to them on the street. Seamus saw the SUV too and snarled as he swerved back onto the street and drove the car into the SUV. Rast screamed as he saw the beige SUV grinding against the side of the car.

“SHOOT ‘EM! KILL ‘EM, RAST!”

He still had no idea how to use a gun properly. All that mattered was that he needed to point and shoot. He jerked his arm outside the car’s broken window as Seamus swerved away slightly, and then he shouted as he pressed his finger on the trigger. Dozens of bullets exploded out of the gun, causing several casings to fly out into the car. Rast was firing so rapidly that the vibrations were felt throughout his arm and his wrist started to hurt. Two of the SUV’s tires popped, and someone inside the vehicle screamed as Rast shot him. Then the vehicle screeched and veered to the right, flipping over around the street before crashing into a telephone pole upside-down. Rast jerked himself back inside the car as Seamus continued to drive, veering left and right and ignoring all of the pedestrians walking and drivers who were actually obeying the speed limit. The pig shouted as he ran a red light, causing half a dozen drivers to honk at him as several people nearly got into a car accident.

“Do you see—”

Rast shrieked when a bullet flew through the busted rearview window. Tinlil and the rat ducked while Seamus struggled to keep driving, focusing more on not getting shot as opposed to driving around the roads properly. Rast had no idea where the gunfire was coming from, but it didn’t let up. Suddenly, Rast heard a faint hiss, and Seamus swore as the car swerved out of control on its own.

“AWW, SHIT!”

Seamus drove off the road, crashing into a bus stop and mowing down a few civilians, all while he smashed through the glass panes and steel, sending glass fragments everywhere. Rast held onto the front seat as Seamus drove into traffic again, and then nearly flew forward when Seamus crashed the car. The trio shouted as they felt the brutal impact. The air bags deployed, and bits of glass and broken metal flew off the car. A few other cars bumped into theirs, causing Rast to groan as he found himself grasping his head. Several pedestrians got out of their vehicles to go investigate or offer aid, but Seamus, Tinlil, and Rast were more concerned about escaping. Huffing, Rast opened up the back door and quickly stepped outside, hurriedly stuffing his submachine gun into his pants. Someone asked if Rast was okay, and the rat exhaled as he forced himself to play victim. 

“Sir?! I-I think you need—”

“NO! I, ah, I’m-I’m fine! We’ll be—”

More gunfire erupted into the street. The man’s head exploded, causing Rast to swear when his blood splattered all over his face. He quickly wiped his eyes before turning to his right, where he saw a modern pickup truck speeding down the road to the crash site. Someone was standing in the bed holding an assault rifle with a scope attached to it. The trio all swore and broke out into a sprint, running away from the accident as the people in the street panicked. Rast couldn’t shoot back—not now, not while there were so many witnesses. He wished everyone was contained inside a building; there were far too many loose ends now. But at this point, he figured it would be better playing a victim being chased by a maniac than some rival gang banger who pissed off the wrong people. So he ran alongside Tinlil and Seamus, all while panting and ducking whenever another bullet whizzed past his body. He grabbed a young woman and shoved her to the right, watching as she dropped to the ground when a bullet caught her in the back of her neck. Rast turned and tried looking for another way out of the situation, but none of them had time to procure another car.

Rast could hear some sirens in the distance and swore to himself when he realized that the police were coming. The gang bangers noticed it too, and the man standing in the bed of the pickup truck turned around and started to aim for the vehicle. While he was distracted, the trio gained more distance, running past as many civilians as they could without drawing too much attention. Most everyone could see the danger they were in and followed the criminals’ examples and sprinted away from the gangsters. Rast shouted as he ran over into an alley and gestured for Tinlil and Seamus to follow. Once they did, they burst their way through the backdoor of a barber shop and exhaled as they ran into various barbers and more civilians getting their hair cut. Without even taking a moment to think, Rast raised his submachine gun and shot at all the civilians, hoping he had enough ammo to take everyone down. Everyone fell, but three of the civilians were still alive. Rast gritted his teeth as he squeezed the trigger multiple times, only to hear a click. He swore loudly as he tossed the gun on the floor, and then groaned and shook his paw, his bones still rattled from how fast the weapon fired.

“Fuck—get the scissors! Stop ‘em!” Rast shouted.

Tinlil and Seamus reached for a sharp pair of scissors and shouted as they pounced on two of the civilians clutching their wounds and trying to crawl away. Both of them stabbed their victims several times until they stopped moving, and then Seamus tackled the last survivor back down to the floor before stabbing him in both of his eyes. Rast exhaled as he looked at the dead humans and anthros on the ground, and then frowned when the back door opened.

“POLICE! DROP—”

Tinlil instinctively jerked his arm backwards and tossed his scissors at the Dalmatian police officer. He didn’t stab him, but the scissors bounced off his face, causing the dog to shout as he grabbed his face. Rast snarled as he sprinted for the dog and bit him against his wrist, digging his rotten teeth into the dog’s paw. The dog shouted and dropped his gun, and then Rast shouted as he felt something clock him in the back of his neck. He groaned and fell to the floor, right on top of the gun. Panting, Rast flipped himself over and pointed the gun at the dog as the Dalmatian lifted his baton. He fired the gun three times, and then huffed as the officer fell to the floor. Rast exhaled and scrambled to his footpaws, grunting as he grabbed the back of his neck and joined with Rast and Tinlil.

“C’mon, there’s a parking garage across the street!” Tinlil advised.

“No shit, Tinlil! Less talkin’, more runnin’!”

The trio ran outside of the barber shop, where they noticed that more police sirens were blaring in their ears. All of them quickly sprinted across the road, disregarding traffic, and entered the parking garage. The human gate attendant frowned when he saw the three criminals trying to sneak in, but Rast snarled and simply shot him in the face. Afterwards, the trio ran up the parking garage, panting and looking for any car that was about to park or that someone was about to get out of.

“FUCK! Can’t one of you just hotwire a car?!” Rast shouted.

Tinlil snorted. “Don’t work like that, pup! I ain’t got no lock pick, and if we break the window open, the cops are gonna know we stole it!”

_Just kill ‘em both and run away_ , Rast thought. _You might still be able to pass yourself off as a victim._ Rast looked at the two criminals as they turned around and growled gutturally. It’d be so easy just to kill both of them and to leave their bodies on the ground. Rast seriously considered it. He blinked as he backed away from the two of them, gradually raising his handgun and pointing it at the back of Seamus’ head. He could feel his finger pressing against the trigger firmly. Then the opossum shifted his eyes over and glared at Rast.

“Fuck you doin’?!”

Rast swallowed and aimed just to the right of Seamus’ head. “Woman over there. SUV.”

Tinlil turned around and saw the woman, as did Seamus. Both of them ran towards her just as she was about to close the front door.

“STOP! GET ON THE GROUND!” Seamus shouted.

The woman screamed and held up her hands, shaking as she moved away from the SUV. She didn’t bother negotiating; the woman tossed the keys on the ground and shivered.

“T-take it! Take the car; just don’t hurt me!”

Seamus picked the keys up off the ground and hurried into the driver’s seat, with Tinlil entering the backseat. Rast stayed outside and kept his gun pointed at the woman, scowling the entire time. He backed away just as Seamus started the engine, and then the pig stuck his head out the window.

“Oi, pup! No witnesses!”

Rast flicked his eyes at Seamus, and then stared at the woman as she got on her knees.

“Please! I won’t—I-I won’t say anything! I’ll forget—”

Rast shot her through the forehead. And then he shoved his gun into his pocket and ran over to the passenger’s seat. Seamus quickly drove in reverse and turned the SUV around, snorting deeply as he drove down the parking garage and through the gate at the entrance. Seamus sped on the main road for a few minutes, with the trio repeatedly checking to make sure they weren’t being followed. Once they were in the clear, all of them took a deep breath, and Tinlil swallowed hard.

“Fuck…the fuck just happened?!”

Rast could feel Seamus’ eyes trained on him before he even spoke. “Dunno. Why don’t _you_ tell us, Rast?”

_Don’t lie. None of this was planned; he’ll believe me_. “I-I don’t know. I was…I spoke to Doug, okay? He-he said he’d be in that alley; he said he’d be doing business! He must’ve figured out we were trying to kill him, so he set up some kind of trap!”

“Uh-huh. Sure. A guy like Doug planned on meeting someone in a creepy dark alley in a neighborhood full of niggers and spics.”

“That’s the point, Seamus! No one would expect a shark like Doug to be in a neighborhood like that! It was the perfect cover!”

Seamus turned and snorted as he glared at Rast. “Sure.”

Rast gritted his teeth. “Those bullets weren’t just aimed for you, fat-ass! I almost got killed out there too!”

“And me!” Tinlil added. “Look, forget about who tried to kill who or why! The cops showed up, Seamus! The pup here killed one of ‘em; he stole his gun! That restaurant and barber shop had kids inside of them, man! You’ve any fucking idea what kind of shit-storm this is gonna cause for us?!”

“We’ll be fine, Tinlil,” Seamus growled, his teeth grit.

“This is gonna put a dent in our operation—”

“ _My_ operation, Tinlil,” Seamus corrected.

“What-the-fuck-ever! We got another shipment coming up in two days. We only got half the meat. You know Maynard won’t be happy about that!”

“Then later tonight—”

“No, Seamus. We gotta let this blow over, give it a week at least. But if we do that—”

“SHUT UP!” Seamus howled.

Rast stared at the pig as he started panting and smashed his fist against the steering wheel twice. Then the pig snorted, flaring his nostrils as he looked over at Rast. “Pup…y-you…get rid of that gun. Destroy it. Dump it. Burn it. I don’t give a fuck. Just wipe it down _thoroughly_ and discard it somewhere. Lay low for a couple days. Don’t talk to anyone; don’t even leave your apartment. We’ll sort all this shit out. Wash your clothes or burn ‘em; take a shower, and, uh…we’ll get rid of the SUV.”

“What about Doug? He obviously did this.”

Seamus nodded. “Few days, Rast. Not now. Cocksucker thinks he’s won this; we’re gonna let him bask in his victory and think he’s in the clear. _Then_ we’ll kill him.”

Rast nodded. “Good.”

Once again, Rast could feel Seamus’ eyes glaring at him again, even before he spoke. “You got something else you wanna tell me, pup?”

Rast shook his head. “No. Do _you_ have something to tell me?”

Rast turned and glared at Seamus. Both of them stared as the SUV remained still at a red stoplight. When it changed to green, the pig turned his head and focused on the road again.

“No.”


	10. Almost

Rast grunted as he heard someone knocking on his door. He looked at the time on his alarm clock and grumbled, realizing that it was barely past five in the morning. The rat moaned as he rolled out of bed, lazily planting his footpaws on the floorboards and standing up. He stretched as he stood before he limped his way over to the door, only clad in a pair of sweaty boxers. The rat scratched his scruffy hide before he absent-mindedly opened the door, blinking multiple times.

“Fuck you want?” he asked, forgetting to be polite.

“Hi, sir, I’m Detective Morris Glendale. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?”

_**FUCK!** _

“Mmf…whatever. Come in.”

 _Stay calm, stay calm. They-they don’t got shit on me. No one knows I was there two days ago; no one knows I was on the train; no one saw me raping or murdering those people. Just calm your ass down…relax_. After the human police officer walked inside the apartment, Rast grunted as he shut and locked the door. Before he could stop himself, Rast passed gas, and Morris clearly heard and smelled the flatulence blasting from the rodent’s behind. Rast, too lazy and grouchy to care, just sniffed and mumbled.

“Scuse you.”

“No,” Rast said defiantly. “S’my fuckin’ apartment; I can fart when the fuck I wanna. You don’t like the smell, fuck off.”

_…You know what, keep badgering him. Gross him out. Pull a Seamus on him; maybe he’ll get so grossed out that he won’t want to question me._

“Right. Hygiene aside, I’m sure you watch the news every now and again, correct?”

Rast turned around and looked at the human, sniffing and folding his arms. “People die. People get raped. Weather. Sports. Celebrities bitching at each other. Am I missing something?”

Rast paid attention to the detective closely. The man wasn’t wandering anywhere towards his room, and he didn’t dare flick his eyes in that direction so he wouldn’t pry into his recordings. He tried to figure out a way to get to the man; Rast sized him up briefly, looking at his shiny brown dress shoes and his beige pants and jacket. His blue tie was average-looking, without any kind of patterns. Morris was also white, and looked like he was in his mid-thirties. He was pleasantly toned; Morris wasn’t noticeably buff like Doug or corpulent like Seamus, but the man knew how to take care of his body. The same couldn’t be said for Rast, who hadn’t showered in days, was shedding, had rotting teeth and gums, and looked gangly.

“Where were you on Monday, around four o’clock?”

Rast shrugged. “Can’t remember. Memory’s not exactly as good as it used to be.”

“You have memory issues?”

“Yeah,” replied Rast, before he stuck a claw into his mouth and started to pick between his yellow teeth. “S’called college. Ya forget lotsa shit when you’re too busy focusing on what day you gotta take an exam.”

Rast grunted when he scooped out a chunk of saliva-soaked, undigested food from his teeth and smacked. Then he flicked the rancid piece of gunk onto the floor near Morris’ shoes. The detective blinked at him, while Rast rubbed his nose and sniffed.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Well. That’s unfortunate. Because on Monday, there was a horrible shootout near Brinbark County. Over thirty dead, some gang members, many of them civilians. Thing is though, some witnesses remember seeing a trio of anthros fleeing the scene: a pig, an opossum, and a black rat. A rat who actually fits a description similar to yours.”

 _Gotcha. I can easily spin this my way now_. Rast walked over to the human being and got in his face, snarling.

“Well, lookit you now, fuckin’ Cracker-ass human cop! Ain’t bad enough you fuckers discriminate against all the Blacks and the Hispanics—now y’all gotta throw your prejudiced bullshit against us too!”

Rast could tell that the detective was visibly disgusted with the stench of his breath. Morris slyly backed away. Rast got in his face again and resumed shouting, to the point where vile saliva flew from his mouth.

“Lemme guess: betcha some fuckin’ prissy-ass mousey told ya a rat was at the scene, didn’t they?! Fuckin’ mice—always thinkin’ they’re better and stronger than us rats! And I’m sure all _you_ see, Detective, is the shade of my fur!”

Morris coughed and backed away, wiping his nose. “That does not make any sense.”

“Bull. Fucking. Shit. Someone said, ‘oh, I saw a _black_ rat fleeing the scene!’ Now lookit you: banging on my front door at five in the fuckin’ morning accusing me of-of being in this ludicrous shootout!”

Rast shouted in frustration and threw his paws in the air, turning away from the officer in disgust. He walked over to the corner of the living room right beside the front door and pulled down his underwear slightly. Then Rast pulled out his penis and aimed for the floor, scowling. Seconds later, dark yellow fluids gushed from his shaft and noisily splashed all over the wall and floor. Rast closed his eyes and let out a deep breath as a puddle began to form and spread around the floor.

“Fuckin’ humans and your self-righteous bullshit. I’m glad your species fucked up your own planet. You wanna help out, Detective? Go back to the Milky Way, fix that giant turd you call ‘Earth’ and stop spraying your feces all over Tero. We’re better off.”

Rast told himself to stop talking before he took everything too far. He fixated more on the puddle he was creating on the floor that was so large now it almost reached his toes. Once the rodent stopped, he exhaled and slipped his penis back into his boxers, shortly before using his own fur as a towel to wipe off his paws. He nonchalantly reached into his boxers and scratched his testicles slowly, listening to his claws scraping against his musky copulatory organs. It wasn’t until Rast walked over to his couch and sat down where he looked at the detective and frowned. He was smiling. Or rather, he was smiling the way Doug frequently smiled: that shark smile. It was that smug, yet rightfully overconfident smirk that he always hated seeing on other people’s faces. It was like the person he was talking to knew that they already won whatever argument Rast was having with them, and the rat couldn’t do a thing now but listen to them gloat about how they won, and that he lost.

“You seem very hostile, sir,” the detective said gently, still smirking. “Now, I haven’t accused you of anything! I haven’t issued any warrants. I haven’t threatened you with any form of prison time. Why, I haven’t even told you _who_ may or may not have seen you. I’m just going around town looking for any clues that may lead me to finding the culprit of this tragedy. All I inquired was if I could ask you some harmless questions. And all I asked was what you were doing on Monday when the shootout took place. You are the one who is being defensive and acting as though you’re covering something up.”

_Kill him. Kill him and dump the body. You’ve done…no. No, that’s stupid. The cops know he’s here. I kill him, they’re gonna immediately look at me. They’ll send someone into my apartment, look for blood stains, fur under his fingernails, fur in his clothing, all those fibers and shit. No…no. Lay off. Stick with the plan._

“Maybe I’m hostile because you woke my ass up at five in the morning on a fuckin’ school day! I already have enough stress as it is; I don’t need some detective in my house asking me questions about _another_ shooting that took place! There’s shootings all over this fuckin’ town! What’s one more, right?”

Morris’ tone suddenly shifted. “I do understand…yes. I myself am known to be quite grouchy in the morning whenever I don’t receive enough sleep. I apologize.” Suddenly, the human being exhaled as he turned around and headed for the door, moments before he reached into his jacket pocket and removed a small business card from it. “You might need this.”

Rast couldn’t help but bare his teeth at the detective behind his back. He watched as the man slyly placed his business card on one of the tables near the door that had a wilting plant on it. Morris didn’t turn around and glare at Rast, nor did he chuckle or make any sort of triumphant gesture. He just stood still and waited, as if he was expecting Rast to make some kind of move. Then the human exited the rat’s apartment and closed the door. Rast scoffed before he stood up and locked the door, grimacing.

“Fucker.”

Rast reached over and grabbed the man’s business card, checking the name and phone number. He shrugged and promptly tossed it into the puddle of urine in the corner before he walked back over to his couch and snarled as he kicked at the table, knocking over some of the empty bags of potato chips and an empty bottle of soda. Rast started breathing heavily and rubbing his head, trying to stay calm, trying not to overthink the situation, all things considered. Morris had to have known—why else would he have approached _him_ specifically so early in the morning? Someone must’ve seen him, went to the cops to inform them about the rat. Maybe there was a witness in the parking garage; maybe there was someone out on the street who saw him. Rast stood up and started grumbling and rubbing his chin.

“FUCK! …Okay…okay, calm-calm down. Just calm down.”

 _He can’t do shit. Maybe he knows, maybe he don’t. But he can’t do shit to me. If he had me, he would’ve arrested me right here and now; he don’t got enough evidence. That or his witness ain’t credible. Just relax…you’re fine, Rast. …Fuck. No, you’re not. There’s no one who can vouch for me; no one knows what I was doing Monday. Fuck—and if they get enough evidence, they could issue a search warrant and sneak into my house when I ain’t here. Fuck! And if they find my videos, then it won’t matter what the fuck I was doing on Monday, will it? They’re gonna arrest me…no. Not-not now. Not now—it’s not time yet. I still have so much more work to do. I’ve barely made an impact on this city yet; no one’s gonna give a shit about a dozen rapes and murders._ Rast closed his eyes.

“No, Rast,” he said out loud. “The _cops_ will. The cops will _definitely_ give a shit about a dozen rapes _and_ murders.”

_Goddamn it…Goddamn it!_

“FUCK!”

_______________________________

This had to end. One way or another, someone had to pay for all the trouble that took place over the past couple weeks. Rast knew that teaming up with Seamus was probably not the best idea, given his lack of logic. But there was no way he would be able to walk into Doug’s store by himself; the first time that happened, he almost got shot. At least Seamus would be able to back him up. And if not, well, he could always use his pudgy body as a shield. Rast glanced over at the pig, watching as the beast walked alongside him clad in his beige shorts and a messy beige T-shirt that failed to hide his plump gut. Rast always stayed casual, only wearing a pair of jeans and a navy hoody with a white stripe on it. The less recognizable he looked, the better. Seamus snorted as he rubbed his piggish snout while Rast scooped some earwax out of his right ear, flicking it on the ground.

“You ready for this, pup?”

Rast nodded. “Sooner we take care of this, sooner we can get this other shit dealt with.”

“I hear ya.”

Rast and Seamus approached Big Piggies. As always, the store was completely empty this late at night, even though Doug himself was still inside taking inventory. Rast walked inside first, while Seamus entered second, immediately shutting and locking the door before flipping the sign over so it read “CLOSED.” Rast walked over to the counter and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a handgun. Douglas, dressed in his typical white dress shirt and black slacks, turned around and scowled at Rast and the pig.

“You do _not_ wanna do that,” he warned Rast.

“Fuck you! We-we had a plan,” Rast suddenly whispered. “Me getting killed wasn’t part of it.”

“Just fuckin’ shoot him, pup!” Seamus shouted.

Rast stared at Doug, and then scowled when he noticed the fish was grinning at him. _Every time_ , Rast thought. _Every fucking time! Goddamn sharks and their stupid-ass smug smiles!_

“I see you’re here too, Seamus. What frivolity have you poisoned this pup’s brain with?”

“There’s no ‘frivolity’ or whatever the fuck here, Doug! You tried to kill us!”

Doug slowly leaned forward as he set his elbows on the counter and made two fists. He rested his chin on his knuckles as he glared at the rat.

“You’re not gonna shoot me.”

“Why not?!” Rast shouted.

“Well. You can’t.”

Rast flicked his eyes behind him and noticed that Seamus was walking towards him and carrying his own weapon. He quickly stared at the shark again, watching as his gills moved slowly.

“Bullshit. I killed people on that train; I murdered people without question in the middle of the street!”

“Yeah. Because your gun actually worked.”

Rast smirked. “Yeah, funny. You think I’m dumb enough to approach you with a jammed handgun?”

Doug didn’t say anything. Neither did Seamus or Rast. As Rast held the gun in Doug’s face, the rat started to frown. _Shit. He’s joking, right? This ain’t even my gun; Seamus gave it to me_. The pink pig turned and snorted as he looked at Rast.

“Pup, he’s bluffing. Shoot him and let’s get on with this.”

Rast squeezed the trigger. And then frowned when nothing happened. It felt like something had jammed the mechanisms in the pistol, preventing it from shooting. The rat curiously looked at the busted weapon and scratched his head in confusion. Seamus groaned and rolled his eyes.

“You fuckin’ kidding me, Rast?!”

“I—” Rast squeezed the trigger two more times. “It’s not working!”

“God—gimme that!”

Seamus walked in front of Rast and snatched his pistol away. He looked at the handgun for a brief moment and flipped it over. Rast frowned when the pig slid a finger against a small trigger, and the gun clicked.

“You left the safety on, you dumb fuck!”

“…Oh.”

Seamus turned around and exhaled with frustration. And screamed when he noticed that Doug was pointing a black pump-action shotgun at him and grinning.

“Okay. So now that we’re on equally footing here,” Doug began, “let’s talk this out.”

Rast, now aware that his gun was working properly, pointed the pistol at Doug again and snorted. “You tried to kill us! What is there to talk about?!”

Doug flicked his eyes at Seamus and grinned. “ _I_ did? Or _we_ did? Get your facts straight, pup. Your paws ain’t clean in this either.”

Rast gritted his teeth. _Cocksucker. Should’ve known he was gonna…shit._

“Hey…hey, S-Seamus. Listen—okay, wait!” Rast pleaded.

Now Seamus and Douglas were both aiming their weapons at Rast. The rat whimpered as he backed away from both of them, his paws shaking.

“After everything we’ve been through…you tried to get me killed?!” Seamus screamed.

“Oh, fuck you! Don’t do this whole ‘everything’ shit with me! What the hell have you done for me?! You served me food with your tainted hands; you smothered me with your body odor and sweat; you forced me to smell your nasty beer breath and your dirty-ass farts everytime we have a conversation! That’s it! You ain’t taken care of me; you’re not my fuckin’ father!”

“I’m the _only_ reason why you’re where you are right now! I gave you that ketamine! I loaned you my vans! I gave you my abandoned warehouse! When…when you told me that you finally took a shit, I was so proud of you, pup! You fnally let go…and now you’re finally _happy_! I made you _happy_ , Rast, instead of being that tormented shell of a rodent you used to be!”

Doug looked at Seamus and Rast with confusion. “Erm…am I missing something here? What do you mean by ‘took a shit,’ Seamus?”

“SHUT UP!” Rast and Seamus barked.

Rast huffed as he glared at Seamus. “You didn’t help me, Seamus. I made that decision on my own! I didn’t ask for your guidance; I just needed to borrow shit from you so the cops wouldn’t suspect me! And-and how do you repay me? You threaten to tell the cops that _I_ was the one who kidnapped those two college students!”

“But you _did_ kidnap them.”

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT! You keep saying you helped me; you didn’t do jack shit! You used me, Seamus! You found out that I was making money off my videos, so you hired two goons to steal from me, to extort money from me! And then when Doug and I tried to get them back, _you_ tried to kill us, not Doug!”

Rast walked forward when he noticed that Seamus was frowning. The pig backed away slowly before he flicked his eyes at Doug. The shark was pointing his shotgun at the fat pig now.

“C-come on—come on, now! This ain’t fair! I’m-I’m not the only one at fault here!”

“No, Seamus, you _are_ the only one. It’s because of _you_ that the pup here came to me begging to get his videos back. It’s because of _you_ that I got shot. It’s because of _you_ that I had to resort to causing a massive train derail just to cover up the shit that we did! I didn’t once think of killing you this entire month until _you_ recklessly thought it was a good idea to steal from Rast!”

Rast snorted. “You’re right, Doug. Seamus is a fucking idiot. We’re better off without him.”

Rast cocked his gun, while Douglas pumped his shotgun. Seamus, bizarrely, chuckled as he lowered his gun. He slid the pistol into his pocket and folded his arms.

“Uh-uh. Nah, nah, you—you bitches won’t touch me. You _can’t_ touch me.”

Rast scoffed. “Yeah? Why’s that? You’re just some butcher and diner owner; who the fuck would miss you?”

Seamus gestured towards Doug. “Ask Chum Breath here.”

Rast turned and looked at the shark, and Douglas immediately closed his eyes and let out a long, exhausted sigh. He lowered his shotgun and rubbed his forehead.

“What? Is it that human organ thing again?”

Douglas nodded. “Something like that. After ‘demands’ were set some weeks ago, I decided to pitch in and help out Seamus with his little ‘organization’ as well.”

“Okay. So what?”

“Do you know what the Apis Empire is, pup?”

Rast shrugged. “That race of giant bee people? What about ‘em?”

“There’s this nasty figure in the empire, guy named Commander Maynard. He’s been coming to Tero every single week demanding ten thousand pounds of human flesh from Seamus. And after a botched deal a few weeks back, Maynard raised his demands up to twenty thousand. If he doesn’t get his flesh every week, he’s gonna declare war on Tero and destroy the entire planet.”

Rast’s eyes widened. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Seamus laughed and slapped his big belly. “That’s right, assholes! You _can’t_ kill me! Not unless you twats got enough money to get off the planet and find a new home somewhere else!”

Rast stammered. “So we can’t kill Seamus even if we wanted to.”

The tiger shark shook his head. “I seriously doubt _you_ got enough money to make a living on another planet. And I’ve spent decades building my empire on this planet; I’m not gonna throw it all away over _one_ shit-stain like Seamus.”

“So, it’s settled! I ain’t dying! That just leaves you, pup!”

Rast looked at Seamus and realized he was taking his gun back out. Douglas wasn’t pointing his shotgun at him, but he was glaring at him hungrily.

“Y’know, none of this started until _after_ you came into my life,” Doug growled.

Rast whimpered and quickly put his handgun into his pocket. “Okay, okay—look! I-I know I fucked up—I’m not denying that! But you can’t kill me either!”

Seamus huffed. “And why not?”

“Because the cops are investigating me!”

Now Seamus’ eyes grew wide. “What!”

Rast nodded. “I’m not lying. Detective showed up at my apartment. At five in the morning, you get me? He didn’t interrogate me; he didn’t threaten me or anything like that. But he-he had this…trust me, he knows or he suspects that I was involved in that Brinbark County shootout that took place Monday.”

“Humor me and tell me who this detective was,” Douglas demanded.

“I dunno. Some human named Morris Glendale.” 

Douglas put his shotgun down and grabbed his forehead with both hands. He inhaled sharply and gritted his teeth before he swore softly and rubbed his face with his left hand.

“Morris Glendale came to your apartment? Today?”

“That’s-that’s what he said his name was. He doesn’t have anything on me, but he knows where I live now, so he’s probably gonna start some investigation. Which means if you kill me, Morris—”

“Is going to look at all of your known associates. Which includes Seamus, and probably me too.”

Seamus snorted. “So what?! Just bribe him like you do all the other cops!”

Douglas exhaled and shook his head. “Trust me, there’s no way to get rid of Glendale unless you’re innocent, or at least _look_ innocent. And no, before you even say it, we’re not killing him. If we do, then this entire city is gonna be looking for his murderer. As shocking as it sounds, I can’t pay off _everyone_. I’m already doing enough paying off the cops.”

“You told us that you have enough money and contacts to weasel your way out of this shit,” Rast added.

“That’s if _I_ get caught. And I have before—by Morris himself. And I’m still here, ain’t I? But there have been many times where one or two lackeys—pups like you—screwed up and got caught. You know how hard it is to arrange a hit to take place in prison, or in a court house?”

Rast thought back to one of the news stories he saw last year, and then looked up at Douglas with wide eyes. “That-that court house in Semphir City. They said some jihadi walked in, blew the whole place to shit.”

Douglas flared his nostrils and grinned. “That derailment I caused last week was not the first ‘terrorist’ act I’ve been responsible for.”

Seamus, impatient, snorted and pointed his gun as Douglas again. “You know what, with all these connections and all this money floating around, I’m sure you’ve made a shit-ton of enemies! You probably got some huge bounties on your head! Something tells me—”

“The friends I have? They’re my friends because I give them money. Lots of money. If I die, they won’t get their money anymore. If they don’t get their money, they get angry. If they find out I was murdered? They _might_ just vent their anger out on the people who killed me.”

Douglas wasn’t just looking at Seamus either. After his nonchalant threat, he turned and winked at Rast as well before smirking again.

“Some food for thought.”

Groaning, Rast rubbed his head and found himself relaxing after all the idle threats. At this point, none of the three anthros were going to kill each other, even though they all desperately wanted to. Rast put his arms down and sucked on his teeth.

“So, bottom line: none of us can kill each other.”

Frustrated, Seamus stuffed his handgun into his pocket again and snorted noisily. “So what the fuck do we do? Sit around with our thumbs up our asses?”

Rast shrugged. “Basically, yeah.”

“I was joking.”

“I’m not. If this Morris guy is serious, then we can’t interact with each other for a while. I gotta look like I’m some smelly rat who’s in college with a crappy job. Seamus, you gotta look like some flatulent pig who owns a diner and a series of butcher shops. Douglas, you gotta look like some shark with bad oral hygiene who sells shoes, and whatever the hell else you do. That’s it.”

“What about Commander Maynard?” the pig asked.

Douglas exhaled. “I’ll help you with Maynard; don’t worry about that. I have enough guys under my wing who can probably get human flesh more efficiently than you can anyway.”

“Watch it, Chum Breath,” Seamus growled.

Rast nodded. “Good. So we just…we lay low for a while. We just keep acting normal, acting the way society wants us to behave. Once all this shit blows over, then we’ll go back to killing each other. Or making money. Whatever the fuck. Can you two do that?”

“Can _you_ do that, Mr. Egotistical Rapist?” asked Douglas.

“I’ve spent all my life acting like I’ve been in some demented play that will never end. What’s another three weeks gonna do?”

Seamus snickered. “Bullshit. You popped yer cherry, pup! S’how all you virgins are; the moment you finally do it, you _can’t_ stop!”

Rast faced Seamus and snorted. “Watch me.”

Knowing neither Doug nor Seamus would kill him, Rast turned around and stomped out of the shoe store. But the moment he stepped out into the crisp night air, a musty skunk walked by him, one who was around the same age as him and looked handsome. Somewhere across the street, a sweaty, chubby elephant was crossing the street, his thick belly bouncing as he wore a greasy tank-top and shorts. At that moment, Rast felt stiff beneath his jeans. He huffed as he quickly walked away, struggling to hide his erection.

_Fuck. I think I just fucked myself over…_


	11. Tonight’s Not the Night

_Okay Rast. You can do this. You’ve been waiting forever, but now it’s finally time. It’s been three weeks now; you’ve done nothing but stall this entire time. But you’re finally here. You’re finally ready. So just move along, hurry it up, and just—_

“PULL THE DAMN TRIGGER!”

Rast grunted as he squeezed the trigger on the light gun. He frowned as he stared at the arcade game in front of him, which showed the game’s villain laughing evilly. This was followed by the words “MISSION FAILED!” in bold, red letters. Everyone standing around Rast groaned out loud, with one of the pedestrians angrily tossing his empty basket of French fries on the floor.

“Fuck,” Rast murmured.

“Hey, relax. How the hell does the game expect you to shoot at a terrorist from _that_ far away while he’s holding the president’s daughter hostage?”

Rast turned and looked at the white human with short red hair. “I dunno, Amy. Guess that’s where the fun of it comes in.”

Rast set the light gun down and walked away from the arcade machine. He joined his three friends as they walked around in the arcade room, having just finished eating a huge, grease-filled meal and consuming sugary drinks. Rast put his paws inside of his jeans and sniffled, glancing down at some of the crumbs on his gray hoody. Rast flicked his eyes over at Amy and smiled at her. _Don’t show your teeth. She doesn’t like it. Just smile with your lips._ Amy looked back at Rast and frowned.

“Oh, think you got some—”

“What, crumbs?”

Rast opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. He licked his lips and around his whiskers before wiping his mouth off with his right arm. Afterwards, Rast, along with his three friends exited the arcade room and exhaled as they walked outside into the night air. Amy wiped her nose for a bit and adjusted her blue jacket while Lamson tilted his beige baseball cap a bit before he straightened out his black jersey and tan cargo shorts. The fourth member, a lemur wearing a striped blouse and tight jeans, reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cell phone. Lamson looked at the lemur and grinned.

“You checking to see who died today, Jessie?”

Jessie glared at the gecko. “I receive text messages and phone calls too, y’know.”

“Heh. Yeah. Phone calls alerting you that another bus got bombed or some shit.”

Jessie scowled. “So what if I’m checking the news? We should be updated on all the crap going on in Tero anyway. A fucking train _derailed_ , Lam. Everyone on both trains was killed! How does—”

“And lots of people died. And women got molested by celebrities. And someone shot up a mall. And people went missing. And babies died of AIDS. And blah-dee-blah-dee-blah-blah-BLAH!”

Rast actually chuckled when Lamson started lifting his fingers, pretending like they were mouths flapping. He even stuck out his sticky, floppy tongue with the final “blah” he uttered. Jessie huffed as she backed away from the gecko and shook her head.

“You shouldn’t mock real life problems, Lamson.”

“Um. I just did. Soooooo…”

“Lam, you ride buses everytime you go somewhere. That or you get us to give you a ride. You know how many buses have gone ‘missing’ these past few months? What happens if you get on a bus and we never hear from you again?”

“Assume I got the hell out of dodge and left this crappy city. Which is probably what all those missing people did.”

“So you’re saying that the news is a giant joke to you?”

Amy ran a hand through her hair and cleared her throat. “You know, I don’t blame Lam, Jess. He’s kinda got a point.”

Jessie glared at Amy and raised her eyebrow, as if to say, “are you serious?”

“Explain,” the lemur demanded.

“Well…look at that game Rast was just playing. That wasn’t depressing or nonstop dourness now was it? It was fun. I mean, sure, the bad guy was going around murdering innocent people, kidnapping little kids and all that. It’s all horrific stuff—”

“Okay, so you agree with me!”

Amy held up her hand. “Let me finish. That game Rast played did not _fixate_ on the tragedy taking place. It fixated on the heroes trying to stop the villains. It explicitly showed people who got saved and were running out of harm’s way, not the people who were getting executed. See, the news we watch on TV, all that nonsense they spout on the front page of those big-time websites? They do the exact opposite. They focus on the tragedy, on the lives lost, on the murderers and rapists who are ‘at large’ or who ‘got away.’ Now apply that to video games or movies. How would your audience feel if you kept pumping out the same depressing shit with each new installment?”

“You’d either be bored or so sickened by how dour each film is, that you’d stop watching ‘em altogether,” Rast chimed in.

“Hehehaaaaa, mah rat Rast!” Lamson exclaimed.

Rast grinned when Lamson walked over to him and they bumped their fists together. Amy looked back at Jessie after chuckling for a bit and resumed speaking. “Precisely. You get bored or desensitized. Look, Jess, we’re not ignoring what’s happening in the city. We’re just desensitized to it, because _all_ the news does is throw all this negativity in our faces. You want my advice? Try finding more diverse news outlets. I found a website once that had all sorts of wacky, but also mainstream news articles. One headline read that the governor’s nephew was kidnapped and murdered. The next one read that a suburban housewife broke into someone’s home to make laundry.”

Lamson broke out into a fit of laughter, while Rast looked at the gecko as he bent over and chuckled uncontrollably. _Hmm_ , Rast thought. _You should laugh too_. And so he did. The rat forced himself to laugh at first. But the more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed to have polar opposite news stories just displayed right beside one another on a news site. So Rast ended up laughing even harder, and it was more genuine and raucous. By the time he and Lamson finished, Jessie was folding her arms and rolling her eyes.

“Fine. Sure. I’ll do what you guys want. But you wanna know what they say on the news too?”

“What?” Amy asked.

“‘I see this all the time on the news, but I never imagined it would happen to _me_.’”

The lemur just scowled at her three friends before she turned and walked away. Amy exhaled.

“So what’s got her panties in a bunch?”

“Shut up, Lamson,” Amy retorted. “She’s just going through some stuff; she’ll be fine. Catch you guys in class tomorrow?”

“You betcha.”

Rast watched as Amy ran off to go chase after Jessie. After the two of them left, Lamson elbowed Rast in his ribs and grinned.

“So…well. You know, Jessie _did_ say that buses have been dangerous lately…”

 _Offer him a ride_. He always likes that.

“Yeah, sure. Suppose it won’t hurt to give you a ride.”

The gecko chuckled and smiled. “You’re the best, bud!”

 _Smile, Rast. People like it when you smile, so long as you don’t show your teeth_. The rat forced himself to smile, and he walked alongside Lamson into the parking lot. As the duo approached Rast’s vehicle, Rast flicked his eyes across the group of cars, trucks, and SUVs and saw a burly man standing beside a large pickup truck. He was leaning against the vehicle and had a large cigar in his mouth. For a moment, Rast thought nothing of the man. But then he flicked his eyes over at him and Lamson, and something in Rast’s gut made him cautious. _Shit. Is that guy following me? Is he some undercover cop working for that Glendale asshole? Has he been spying—_

“Dude…big blonde in the open flannel shirt. He’s totally checking you out, bruh.”

Rast’s thoughts were interrupted when Lamson nudged him and whispered. He looked at the gecko and watched as he grinned and gestured in the direction of the smoking man. When Rast looked at him again, he was blowing smoke out of his mouth and tapping ash off the end of his cigar.

“Who, that guy?”

“Yeah, bruh!”

Rast frowned. “Lam, he’s just some guy smoking outside ‘cause you can’t smoke in the arcade building.”

“No, no, I’m not messin’ with you. I saw him glancing at us like five times since we’ve been out here!”

“Or perhaps he was glancing at Amy and Jessie, both of whom are a lot more attractive than we are. Not every burly guy we see is homosexual, Lamson.”

“Yeah, well…wouldn’t hurt to go ask, now would it?”

Rast exhaled and shook his head. “Nah. I don’t wanna piss him off. ‘Sides, not every gay dude wants to fuck an anthro, you get what I’m saying?”

“I’m just sayin’, bruh! I’ve been banging dudes a lot longer than you; I can sniff out a gay guy better’n you can.”

Rast looked at the man again and blinked. He did look attractive, with his hairy, burly arms, his bushy blonde beard, his thick gut and his sweaty T-shirt he wore beneath his flannel shirt. Rast mumbled softly to himself as he felt his loins stirring again. He imagined the man naked, his fat belly and sexual organs exposed. And then he imagined tying his hands behind his back, and pinning him to a table while he took him from behind. Rast actually had to awkwardly shift his pants when he felt an erection coming, and it didn’t stop. He thought about taking a scalpel and cutting his corpulent frame open, watching as his fat and blood spilled all over his body, his bowels loosening, his screams—

 _Stop_ , Rast told himself. _You said you’d lay low, so lay low. Just go home and beat off, then go to sleep. Don’t worry about this guy. ‘Sides, if he’s an undercover cop, and you do rape and kill him, you’re fucked. Just…just ignore him. Your time will come. Eventually._

“Nah, Lam. I’m not feeling it. C’mon, let’s go.”

Lamson groaned and rolled his eyes. “Fiiiiiine.”

Rast walked over to his car and unlocked the doors. Then he and Lamson got inside, and Rast started the engine.

________________________________

Seamus snorted several times as he slept on the mattress on the floor. The giant pig drooled slowly, leaving a small puddle of saliva all over the mattress, his body covered in sweat. The pig smiled in his sleep and rolled his tongue around his tusks, grumbling and moving his legs around. And then his office door crashed open, and Seamus frowned as his eyes opened.

“BOSS! The fuck you doing? C’mon, our guest is waiting outside!”

 _Fuck off_ , Seamus thought. The pig didn’t say anything or move. He stayed on his mattress, still lying on his belly and pretending to be asleep. Seamus heard footsteps from behind; judging by the smell, it was Tinlil who entered his office.

“Let’s go, let’s go, boss! Move your dirty ass!”

Seamus snorted. And then he slyly lifted his rump into the air and pushed out a long series of gas bubbles from his anus. Seamus listened to the fart escaping his dreaded posterior for several seconds before he exhaled and stopped passing gas. He smirked to himself as his office was filled with the stink of sulfur.

“Boss, you’ve been farting in my face ever since I started working for you. You seriously think the smell bothers me?”

 _Fine then. I’ll just shit myself_. Seamus lifted his large rump again.

“Don’t even. I’ve been around you during your ‘accidents’ too; I’m immune to your stench, boss. Stop trying to gross me out and get your fat ass up!” 

Seamus huffed as he immediately flipped himself over on the mattress and sat up. The pig snorted at Tinlil, looking like he wanted to shoot the opossum in the face.

“Did you tell ‘em to fuck off?”

“You know I can’t do that, boss. Not unless you want the whole planet destroyed.”

“Fuck’s sake—fine!”

Seamus groaned with frustration as he hopped off his mattress and stood up, grunting and cracking his back. He shoved Tinlil out of his way before he stepped out of his office, scratching his face before he reached down and scratched at his groin for a moment. The pig exhaled as he walked down the stairs, sniffing the air and taking in the stench of all the human bodies that had been chopped up. He didn’t bother greeting his workers; he was far too grouchy and irritated to talk to anyone. So he stomped his way past some of the bears and buffalo who were meticulously tearing through bone and flesh with their saws or dismembering dead bodies with giant cleavers. Seamus even came across a binturong who was using shears to cut several human ribs in half. The pig huffed as he rubbed his forehead and approached the front door of the warehouse just beside the main gate. He violently shoved open the door and walked outside, where he saw Commander Maynard standing beside his spaceship folding his four arms. Seamus lifted a hand as he approached the giant apid clad in his red armor.

“Don’t wanna hear it, Maynard!”

The apid slurped and hissed. “ _Commander_ Maynard!”

“What-the-fuck-ever! The shipment’s here. Taste it. Pay me. Fuck off.”

Seamus stood in front of the giant apid and his apid soldiers and folded his arms. Maynard looked at one of the steel crates resting outside the warehouse and ordered one of his troops to pry it open. The pink pig lazily leaned against one of the crates and yawned with his nasty mouth open before he smacked his lips. Commander Maynard stared at the pig and slurped.

“I wasn’t aware that I interrupted your hibernation, pig.”

Seamus looked down at his clothes and grumbled. He was only wearing a pair of stained boxers with polka-dots on them, and his T-shirt was torn and sweaty. The pig was so frustrated over having his sleep interrupted that he hadn’t bothered to put on his pants. The pig snorted and felt a glob of saliva forming in his mouth. Maynard must’ve sensed what the pig was about to do, because the apid spread his mandibles apart, and a thick jet of saliva came out his mouth first. Seamus spluttered as the saliva splattered all over his face and got inside his nostrils. The pig coughed and snorted profusely, blowing all the snot and saliva from his big nostrils.

“You have been doing well, pig. Do not ruin our deal with your insolent behavior.”

Tinlil glared at Maynard and snorted. “You’re the one who spat in my employer’s face. Seems like you’re—”

“Shut your mouth, _bitch_.”

Tinlil stared at the giant apid as he hissed and gurgled. Then the opossum smirked at the apid and chuckled.

“Funny…that’s-that’s hysterical, Commander Maynard! The big and bad four-armed apid is out here on Tero collecting food for his queen like some kind of lap dog. Sounds to me like _you’re_ the bitch here.”

Seamus constantly kept asking himself why he still had Tinlil working as his second in command. That one line he told Maynard, which made the apid snarl while some of his soldiers snickered, was enough to lift the pig’s spirits and enough to shut Maynard’s mouth. Wordlessly, Maynard stomped over to one of the crates once it was opened and shoved one of his soldiers out the way. Seamus watched as Maynard stared at the amalgamation of body parts sitting in a pool of blood and fat. He lowered his head and slurped up the blood with his long tongue. With a thick gulp, Maynard swallowed the warm substance and exhaled with satisfaction.

“This is acceptable, pig.”

“Course it is. Now take your shit and go.”

Commander Maynard ordered his troops to get the crates in his own language before he stepped in front of Tinlil and Seamus once again. Meanwhile, another apid soldier grumbled as he scratched as his armor and removed a small fraction of it with a hiss. He dug into the opening of his armor and pulled out a glittering light yellow mineral and tossed it over at Tinlil. The opossum grinned widely as he examined the mineral before nodding.

“Good enough. You apids should really figure out how to make money, not this…whatever it is. It’ll take less time on our part converting these to dollar bills.”

Commander Maynard ignored him and scratched near his eyes with one hand before he exhaled. Seamus snorted.

“There’s no problem. The shipment’s good. Had to chop up eighty bodies just to get this fucking shipment for _your_ needs. Now go! You’ll have your twenty thousand pounds again next week!”

The apid slurped. “Yes. Indeed. I shall return next week. And you will supply me with forty thousand pounds.”

Seamus shook his head. “Bullshit. That’s way too fucking much and you know it!”

Commander Maynard let out a watery, guttural laugh. “When we first started all of this, the deal was only five hundred pounds. You said it was impossible, but you got it done! Then I said a thousand. Your reply was the same: impossible! Then I said two thousand, then four, then ten! And your reply has always been the same! Even after I told you to get me twenty thousand pounds last month, you still managed to do it! And I must applaud you for your ability to deliver! So…forty thousand. You said it’s impossible. But no worries! The Apis Empire has the utmost faith in you!”

“You can’t do this!” Tinlil protested.

Maynard turned and glared at the opossum. And then he spat at his footpaws and slurped.

“Forty thousand, Seamus. With that much flesh and bones, you’d better get started _tonight_.”

Seamus couldn’t find anything to say to the giant apid. No swear words, no insults, no pleading of any kind would change how Commander Maynard felt about the situation. He gritted his teeth and swore inwardly, realizing that he just fell into a hole, and someone just took away the ladder that would get him out of it. Tinlil exhaled and swore a few times while Seamus just took a long breath and shut his eyes. He listened as the apids collected the metal crates and transported them all onto Maynard’s ship. Then the four-armed apid clacked his mandibles together before letting out a wet snort.

“I appreciate your patronage, dear Seamus.”

 _Fuck you_ , Seamus said inwardly. The pig didn’t even have the strength to say it out loud. He just kept his mouth shut as he continued to observe the apids gathering their flesh and bones. Tinlil groaned as he grabbed his head and started breathing rapidly.

“Forty…forty thousand fuckin’ pounds,” he said in disbelief.

“I heard what he said, shit-stain.”

“How…how? How the hell are we supposed to get that much human flesh in only a week without the cops finding us?!”

Seamus closed his eyes and shook his head, finally feeling his defeat setting in.

“We can’t.”

________________________

He never did like any of these meetings, but it was mandatory. Dress nice, say nice things, drink wine, laugh. Discuss deals with other people in fancy suits. Dress, chatter, wine, laugh, repeat. And then he could go home or get back to organizing his assets and mercenaries. The shark looked at the two humans standing front of him, both Caucasian and losing their hair, both dressed in navy blue suits with ties on. He glanced down at their shoes, looking at the pair of derbies that looked seemingly uncomfortable. And then the shark looked down at his own bare feet, his toes and soles resting on the pristine carpet.

“Still aren’t used to it, are you, Mr. Kevro?”

The giant shark chuckled and smiled. “No, it’s still incongruent for me, Mr. Torrin. All these years—I-I just cannot fathom how you humans tolerate wearing shoes.”

The other man standing by Mr. Torrin chuckled and drank from his wine glass before speaking. “I can’t fathom how you spend your free time running a shoe store.”

Douglas kept smiling. “I find that when you spend more time around the things that you despise, you learn to appreciate the finer things in life a lot more.”

Mr. Torrin sniffed. “Mm. Suppose that’s why I own a fertilizer plant.”

 _Christ_ , thought Doug. _It’s like everyone I talk to has to incorporate shit into everything they talk about. …Eh, fuck it. Just laugh like they do_. The shark listened to the two men laughing and joined in. It was easy to fake it, having spent so much time around people like this. By the time they finished, Douglas finished his glass of wine and exhaled.

“Speaking of which, you do have enough fertilizer, correct? You know, you’re gonna need plenty! And we anthros—we got plenty to make for you.”

“Oh, yes! Yes, we do indeed have plenty of fertilizer! Just enough to cover up the land.”

Douglas nodded and grinned. “Good. And, uh, Mr. Lieberman? Your shipment is coming in tonight, correct?”

Mr. Lieberman nodded. “On schedule, Mr. Kevro. Very large shipment, all the way from Kendar! Lots of exotic rugs, just like the one you’re standing on!”

Douglas chuckled. “Good. Seems like our schedule hasn’t been hindered, in spite of the recent tragedies.”

“And what tragedies would those be, Mr. Kevro? The wasted food, or the massive gang battle that happened in broad daylight?”

Douglas turned around and spotted a middle-aged man in an ironed, dark brown suit and tie walking up to him. He wore derbies just like Mr. Lieberman and Mr. Torrin did, but unlike them, Douglas wanted nothing to do with this man. He kept telling himself that it’d be so much easier if he just found out where he lived and suffocated him while he slept, but doing so would martyr the man. So the shark just looked at the human being and smiled, like he did with everyone else at the party.

“Detective Glendale. Wasn’t sure you’d make it to the party.”

The human smiled. “Are you kidding? The moment I heard that you’d be here, I _had_ to come!”

The shark reached forward and shook Glendale’s hand, grasping it a lot firmly than he needed to. Behind him, the other two businessmen sniffled or straightened their ties.

“Mr. Kevro, my apologies, but it seems like Ms. Chenny has also arrived as well. Last I recall we had urgent matters to discuss about the schooling system and all that.”

Doug nodded without looking at them. “You two have fun then. I’ll keep the detective company.”

He kept staring at Glendale, forcing himself not to smirk or grin, not to give away any hint of malice, despite wanting to grab a letter opener so he could disembowel the man in front of all these people. Once the two men left, Douglas exhaled and set his wine glass down on a nearby table. Morris looked at the two businessmen and raised an eyebrow.

“Hmm. Those two left awfully fast.”

“Maybe they were trying to get away from my mouth,” Doug said, snorting. “May as well get all the dismissive comments about my foul breath out the way now instead of later.”

The detective chuckled. “Hey, no one’s gonna care about your breath so long as you don’t stand too close to someone’s face. Me? Everyone can spot my hideous suit from a mile away. I look like a giant pile of dung in this.”

Douglas snorted again as he stared at the human being. Glendale looked up at Douglas and smirked.

“May as well get all the dismissive comments about my ‘inadequate’ attire out the way now instead of later.”

Douglas chuckled before he licked his teeth. He glanced around the giant building, observing the various humans and anthros dressed sharply in their tuxedos or dresses, all complete with ties or smooth gloves. A glistening chandelier hung from the ceiling, and all of the tables inside the building had a candle on them. Some people were eating an exquisite entrée while others were merely discussing business matters or making plans for future investments in construction, architecture, or real estate. Across the main area was the smoking lounge, which was filled with more rich individuals who made hundreds of thousands of dollars each month. All of them were coolly smoking their cigars and basking in the acrid ambiance. And yet, standing in front of Douglas was some nicely-dressed, but relentless and crafty human who probably made less than seventy thousand dollars per year.

“Li’l outta place for you, dont’cha think, Detective?”

Glendale exhaled. “Nah. I’m in the perfect spot! It’s my duty to uphold the law and to catch criminals. What better place to go to than an exclusive ball in the middle of the city?”

Douglas chuckled and pointed at Morris. “See, now that? _That’s_ funny. I would assume that you would be out on the streets fighting crime, not in here with folks such as myself.”

Morris shrugged. “That kind of work is for patrol units. Just like how you are not capable of constructing your own buildings, Mr. Kevro. You have to hire lowly, dirty construction men to break their backs off of _your_ idea.”

“And you must take credit for apprehending criminals that those lowly street officers catch.”

Glendale exhaled. “We can argue about our viewpoints of the system all night long, but then we’d miss the point of why I’m here.”

“Which is?”

“Train derailment a few weeks ago. Over thirty people killed. Tens of millions of pounds of food rendered obsolete—food that our fine soldiers desperately need for the war.”

Douglas shook his head. “Terrorists must’ve snuck inland. What better way to—”

“That’s one theory,” he said, interrupting the shark. “But the queer thing here is that many of the bodies we found had bullet holes in them. And nobody bombed the train. Wouldn’t that be more efficient than merely crashing it into another train?”

Douglas nodded and sniffed. “Terrorists these days. They’re always categorized as light-brown, funny-accented people who blow themselves up. If I recall, terrorists back on your home planet would simply hijack a truck and drive the vehicle into a crowd of people. Just as effective, if you ask me.”

Morris nodded. “I suppose. That being said, it’s rather strange that not even a week later, there was a devastating gunfight in the middle of the streets. Killed a whole slew of people. Someone even had the audacity to shoot a bunch of kids and their parents inside a restaurant.”

Sighing, the shark shook his head. “Gotta say…state of this city—you’d think we were on planet Earth. Of course, Tero is still intact, so…”

“For now.”

“For now,” Douglas agreed. “And I do appreciate the effort you police officers make to keep our city safe.”

Glendale smiled nonchalantly. “So you’re saying you will turn yourself in?”

Douglas laughed. “Awww, it can’t be that easy, Detective. If all the criminals turned themselves in willingly, you’d be out of a job.”

“Stercullo would be safer though.”

“No, this city would be worse. You police officers would just start arresting and shooting innocent people. And then the next you know, the cops are the bad guys, not the _actual_ bad guys.”

Morris exhaled and stuck his hands into his pockets. He sucked on his teeth. “The dreaded cycle. Don’t matter if it’s Earth or Tero, New York City or Stercullo…same thing, ain’t it? Even if I arrest you—even if I pull out my gun right now and kill you—that won’t change much. Sure, it’ll stop crime for a good month or two. But then some other criminal will come along, take your place.”

Douglas laughed and nudged Morris. “Precisely, Detective! I say enjoy the fun while it lasts! I’m sure you’ll catch me sooner or later. I’d prefer later though.”

Morris nodded as he leaned against one of the tables and folded his arms. “Well. Was nice speaking to you again. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m gonna go pay Seamus Osgranov a visit.”

Douglas’ left eye twitched. “Ooh, I wouldn’t suggest that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I wouldn’t want to see Mr. Osgranov put in jail for assaulting you with his flatulence.”

Morris winked at Douglas and moved away from the table. “I can take care of myself, Doug. But thanks for the warning.”

Douglas snorted and smiled. “Goodbye, Detective. I do hope that your investigation bears fruit.”

“And I hope that the next time I see you, it’ll be so I can slap my handcuffs around your wrists.”

Both enemies smiled at each other and nodded. Morris turned around and headed for the building’s exit, while Douglas blinked a few times and found another glass of champagne. He chugged the whole glass in one gulp before he wiped his mouth off and headed for the exit too.

_____________________________________

Douglas shut the front door to his house and exhaled as he turned on the lights. The shark huffed and leaned against the door, breathing heavily and swearing in his mind. Despite how large and spacious his home was, it was surprisingly empty. Nothing was in the living room except for an ordinary table, a bland blue rug, a mahogany sofa, and a flat-screen TV. The wall had no decorations on them, no forms of color, no pictures of family or relatives—there weren’t even fake potted plants anywhere. Douglas walked away from the door and headed to his bedroom, passing through an empty corridor, before he walked inside his personal business room. Unlike the living room, his bedroom was a cluttered mess, chock full of papers, folders, binders, and at least three different laptops and sets of phones. Douglas rubbed his face for a moment before he stepped inside and looked at the messages on his answering machine. He pressed one of the buttons on the machine and listened to his received messages.

“Hey, Mr. Kevro. I was wondering if you have those new shoes in? Y’know, those…the-the brand new blue Nikes? Call me back, thanks.”

Douglas groaned and rolled his eyes, moments before he heard the next message.

“Mr. Kevro. The shipment we received last week had been tampered with. Apparently there was a rat on our ship, and he, erm, ‘chewed’ through our supply, rendering it useless. The rat’s been taken care of, but, sir, this is the fourth rat we’ve found on our cargo ship. I’m beginning to suspect we should call an exterminator…flush ‘em all out so this doesn’t happen again. Call me again later, yeah?”

“Fuck’s sake,” Douglas murmured.

The final message played. “Hey, Chum Breath!”

Doug stared at the answering machine and shut his eyes once he recognized Seamus’ voice. “Oh no…”

“Yeah, Shit-for-Breath, I know your bitch-ass hears me—don’t delete this message! I got a problem—a big fucking problem.”

“You mean, bigger than your fat ass?” Douglas muttered to himself.

“DON’T YOU MOCK ME AND MY ASS!”

Doug shut his mouth.

“Look…my, uh, my-my shipment. It’s doubled. And, err…my contact dude, he wants more of this special—oh fuck it. Lookit fuck-head, Commander Maynard is being an ass! He’s demanding forty thousand pounds of human flesh. FORTY-FUCKING-THOUSAND POUNDS! I-I can’t get that much flesh in a week! You gotta give me some of your guys or something, figure out a way to get me out of this mess!”

Doug opened his mouth.

“Don’t you dare say I brought this shit on myself! You decided to work with me; your hands are covered in as much shit as mine are!”

Doug closed his eyes and his mouth.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ help me, fuck-stick. Or else I’m gonna fuckin’ blow town, and I’m gonna leave _you_ to handle all this fucking bullshit. Or maybe I’ll-I’ll go to the cops! Maybe they wouldn’t mind having an informant ratting you and that stupid-ass pup out! So there! Shove that up your ass and shit it out!”

“Shove that—what? Christ almighty, this pig’s language,” Douglas muttered.

The answering machine finished playing all the messages. Doug walked over to the machine and deleted them all, seconds before he sat down on his bed and grabbed his head. He huffed with frustration, his gills gently moving as the shark struggled to breathe. He scratched around his neck before he lifted up his dress shirt and looked at the bullet wound in his side. It was healing naturally, but the shark knew it’d be several months before the pain was fully gone. Douglas looked at the machine and scowled. He rubbed his hands together and kept thinking about all the times Seamus tried to kill him. In the past month alone, Seamus got him shot, made him give up five million dollars, and he forced him to derail two trains—an act of which was only drawing Detective Glendale closer to his schemes. And now all this nonsense with Maynard… Douglas scoffed and shook his head. He grabbed one of his disposable cell phones and dialed one of his contacts.

“Go,” said the person on the other line.

“Yeah, it’s Kevro.” Douglas cleared his throat. “We’re gonna have to take care of the Maynard shipment. He’s doubled his demands.”

“Forty thousand is impossible, sir.”

The shark nodded. “I’m aware. It’s impossible to gather _live_ bodies. But if we were to acquire cadavers, then at least it’ll be easier, and a bit more legal. We don’t need to draw in more police officials.”

“So you want us to go grave digging?”

“Absolutely not.” Doug sighed. “Head to the mortuaries and funeral homes. See which ones have the most human bodies and take ‘em all. If anyone asks you any questions, pay ‘em off. If anyone doesn’t accept the bribe, you kill ‘em and take the bodies anyway. Understood?”

“And you’re sure Maynard will be fine with this?”

“He’s gonna have to deal with it. As long as we get the bodies and clean ‘em in time, he’ll be happy.”

“What about Seamus?”

“You let me worry about Seamus. Focus on getting the bodies.”

“Got it.”

Doug hung up the phone, and promptly destroyed it seconds later. Afterwards, he exhaled and kept rubbing his head, vaguely remembering a news story he saw many weeks ago about a raging forest fire. 

“Hmph…forest fire…forest fire,” he murmured.

Douglas reached over and grabbed his laptop. Then he grinned as he stretched himself out on his bed and logged into his private account on the dark web. _S’a just a large forest fire_ , Doug thought to himself.

_You know how to take care of those._


	12. Backfire

Tinlil tapped his footpaw on the floor of his living room while Seamus continued to stare at the laptop. The chubby pig licked around his tusks before he exhaled and rubbed his big nose, glancing at everything he saw on the computer screen.

“Seamus…the hell we gonna do? You know we—”

“Do not tell me shit I already know,” the pig growled. “I-I know what to do.”

“No, you don’t. All this shit’s been going downhill ever since this that crap went down with those stupid flash drives! What was the point—”

“Shut up, Tinlil. I will get us through all this shit!”

Seamus huffed as he clicked on the laptop multiple times, scowling as he scrolled around various pages online, looking up various advertisements and freelance work he could partake in alongside the opossum. The pig rubbed his face for a moment before he snarled and scratched underneath his shirt. He licked his teeth again before he clicked on an inviting link.

“What are you doin’ now anyway?”

“People ask for some crazy shit on the dark web. All we need is a huge payday and we’re getting off this planet.”

“Are you crazy? _Renting_ a spaceship is nearly a million bucks! You seriously expect us to make enough money to be able to find another planet to _live_ on for the rest of our lives?”

“I told you: people ask for crazy shit on the dark web. Which means some people got plenty of cash they wanna throw away.”

A pop-up window appeared on the laptop. Seamus grinned.

“Like this guy. Uhhhh, despises the people of Tero, hates Stercullo City, wants to see everyone die, blah blah blah blah blah. Nothing…wait. Wait. Wait! OH MY GOD!”

Seamus’ troubles melted away instantly. A wide, evil grin appeared on his nasty face as he looked at the message someone sent him on the website. He rubbed his hands together and chuckled softly, processing the information that he saw on the screen and licking his lips, debating whether or not the message was true or just a prank.

“What’d you find? Another snuff site?”

“NO! The-the-this—someone’s posted a hit on the site! Some users are talking about it, but no one’s taken up the offer yet; everyone is a buncha scared li’l bitches!”

“What ‘hit’ is this, exactly? The governor? Some chancellor?”

“It’s not one person; it’s a place! Universal Gardens!”

Tinlil looked at the pig and frowned. “No. Absolutely not—we’re not doing that.”

“What, you scared _now_ , Tinlil? You frightened over a buncha anthros taking selfies in front of their favorite rides or a buncha fat kids stuffing their faces with cotton candy?”

“It’s an amusement park, boss. You’ve any idea how many kids will be there? The security, the cops, the-the news reporters, all the cameras and shit! How do you expect—”

“Easy. We sneak in some weapons, disable the cameras, disable the metal detectors and shit, and we’re solid. All we gotta do is get the uniforms, and this guy says he’ll provide them for us. As for the weapons and heavy lifting, all that shit? We can figure that out ourselves.”

Tinlil stammered and shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his muzzle. “Okay, so what’s your fuckin’ plan, genius? We just walk into the park with our guns blazing?”

Seamus shrugged. “Simple enough, right?”

“NO! Don’t you think by now—”

“I told you: the client will provide us with the uniforms! The rest shouldn’t be too difficult to figure out as far as I’m concerned. If we can handle getting thousands of pounds of human flesh to some giant galactic overlord, then shooting up a pansy-ass amusement park should be a piece of cake!”

“Even if we get off the planet—and that’s if the cops don’t pump our asses fulla bullets trying to escape Tero—they’ll never stop hunting us. This is gonna go down as one of the biggest tragedies in the city—hell, in this entire country! Lots of parents with dead kids will be seeking retribution! The IGPA will have our faces plastered everywhere demanding a reward for our capture! And let’s not forget that Commander Maynard will destroy this planet if we neglect his shipments, and once Tero is gone, he’ll come after us next! This is not a good idea, Seamus; what part of this do you not understand?!”

“What part of one billion dollars do _you_ not understand?”

“WE CAN’T…wait, how much?”

Seamus snickered as he held up nine greasy fingers. “Nine zeroes. Not six, but _nine_. We’ve never been paid for that much money for _anything_ before. Not even for all this organ harvesting we’ve been doing. We do this here, the-the cops, the gangs, our clients, the demented overlords from other planets…” Seamus lifted his hands and spread them apart, as if he was wiping off a table. “All gone, bro. With all this money, we could buy our way to freedom. Even if the cops do catch us, you know they won’t say no to a fat ‘bonus’ in their paycheck. We could give up half our money, and we’d still have _half_ a billion dollars. That’s more than enough to get a ship, pay off other finances, get our asses off Tero, get a nice spot on some other planet—this is it, Tinlil!”

Tinlil huffed. “This don’t feel right. Some random person just went onto the dark web and is offering a billon dollars to shoot up an amusement park? Why? Why can’t they just bomb it?!”

“They said that’s not good enough. And who gives a shit about suicide bombings anymore? Any sand nigger can walk into a crowd and scream ‘Allahu Akbar’ before blowing themselves to pieces. So what? Now, if someone were to infiltrate a park this crowded, was able to get _guns_ past security, kill hundreds? That’d just show how incompetent this city’s security truly is. People wouldn’t be safe anymore; people wouldn’t wanna leave their own homes without thinking criminals would be able to roam freely. Hehe, hell, if we do this, crime will actually go _up_ in the city! All the people too afraid to carry a gun, too afraid to do public shootings? They’ll look at us and go like, ‘wow! If they can do it, so can we!’”

Tinlil’s eyes widened. “If we do this, it’ll tear the city apart.”

“Eh. We’ll be out the city by then anyways.”

Seamus knew that the opossum was about to open his mouth again. He quickly held up a hand and gestured for him to shut his mouth. “Nine zeros. Billion dollars. Perfect way for all of us to get offa this stinking planet. Had enough of Stercullo if you ask me. Had enough of Tero altogether; may as well start our retirement now, right? We sure as hell are old enough to.”

Tinlil exhaled. “So we’re actually gonna run around killing a bunch of adults and their children while they’re riding the merry-go-round and jumping inside of bouncing castles.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry you decided to pick _now_ to grow a fucking conscience, Tinlil! I’m so fuckin’ sorry, opossum who willingly helped me chop up dozens of human bodies to sell their organs for money, that you have a problem gunning down itty-bitty children and some security guards and a bunch of tourists! I’m so damn sorry! Seriously!”

Seamus and Tinlil stared at each other for a moment, the two anthros looking like they wanted to tear each other’s heads off. Tinlil started reaching for his gun, but Seamus just scowled at the opossum, fully aware that he was just bluffing. And he was; Tinlil swiftly moved his paw around the gun and scratched his behind instead. Then he took a breath and swallowed hard.

“Fine…fuck it. Fuck it. I’ll-I’ll do it.”

“I thought so. Get some mercs together, get a large van, and get those big-ass machine guns we got locked up in storage. I’m gonna talk to this guy some more, see how legit this is.”

“What about the rest of the guys in the warehouse?”

“I’ll inform them about this deal too. Don’t you worry.”

Seamus turned and looked back down at the laptop while Tinlil huffed again and stepped out of the living room.

_________________________________

He still had one more thing to take care of before the attack. The giant pig headed back to his warehouse on the outskirts of the city, where he panted heavily as he paced around his office again. A canister of gasoline was resting beside his messy mattress, and a set of assault rifles were laying on his desk. He cracked open one of the windows and wiggled his nose as the stench of all the carved dead bodies filled his lungs again. Seamus snorted and smirked to himself as he grabbed an assault rifle with one hand, and then walked over and grabbed the canister of gasoline with the other. Seamus hurried down the stairs before he set the can of gasoline beside the wall. Still holding his assault rifle, Seamus walked out into the center of the warehouse before he put two fingers inside of his mouth and whistled as shrilly as possible.

“LISSEN UP! STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOIN’; GATHER ‘ROUND FOR A SECOND!”

Everyone stopped their sawing equipment or stopped chopping up the humans’ bodies with their cleavers and machetes for a moment so they could pay more attention to Seamus. As soon as everyone stood around him huddled in a group, Seamus snorted and slowly backed away.

“What’s goin’ on, boss?”

“That bastard Maynard advanced the shipment date again?”

“‘Notha’ one of us got arrested?”

Seamus grinned widely as he gripped the assault rifle firmly. “No. Not at all.”

One of the anthros noticed that the pig was slowly aiming the gun towards him. Instinctively, he reached down and pulled his handgun from its holster.

“The fuck you doin’?” he asked grimly.

Realizing that other employees were reacting the same way, Seamus didn’t take any chances. He pointed at an anthro’s head and began to fire. He shot the anthros holding the weapons first, hitting them all in the throat or face before they could shoot him. Everyone else either screamed or awkwardly scrambled to pull out their guns, but to no avail. By the time Seamus’ clip was empty, nearly everyone in the warehouse was either dead or bleeding out. Seamus leaped to his left when he saw someone lying on his back and weakly aiming his handgun at him. The pig crouched down behind a table as a few bullets were fired, ricocheting off the metallic table legs. Seamus took out his own handguns before he appeared from around the table and approached the wounded polar bear. The ursine gurgled and panted a few times, shortly before Seamus shot him in the skull. Smiling, Seamus looked at the other two anthros who were trying to crawl towards the exit. One of them swore at Seamus and spat at his feet, moments before the pig shot him in the back twice. The other anthro rolled over onto his back, whimpering as he held up his bloody paws.

“Please…you can’t—”

Seamus silenced him with a bullet to his forehead. Still grinning, Seamus put his handguns into his pockets before he walked back over to the can of gasoline. Humming nonchalantly and talking to himself, the pig began to drench his entire warehouse in the pungent fluids. His office, the staircase, the dead bodies, the bloody sawing equipment, the crates full of dismembered human beings—all of it was coated in gas. When the canister was empty, Seamus tossed it aside before he walked towards the exit and pulled open the giant metal gate. As he felt the chilly night air blasting in his face, Seamus turned around and pulled out a lighter. He flicked the wheel twice and stared at the flame that emerged. Then he tossed the lighter onto the floor, and watched as the gas ignited. Still grinning, Seamus turned around and walked outside, listening to the flames destroying his organ harvesting ring.

_______________________________

The pig snorted as he looked outside the heavily armored truck’s window. He rubbed his chin for a moment and licked his tusks, grumbling. Some of the other anthros in the truck were shuffling around in the back or complaining about their uniforms. Even Seamus had to admit that his current uniform was definitely too small for his massive frame, and the itchy body armor he wore beneath his uniform wasn’t helping. The pig looked down at his black dress pants before he examined his beige long-sleeved shirt with a fake badge pinned above his left breast. He leaned outside the window for a moment and straightened out his black cap with the world “Security” printed on the front in bold, gold letters. A gorilla was sitting in the driver’s seat dressed in the same uniform, and looking just as uncomfortable as the rest of the anthros. Seamus looked at his watch and exhaled.

“All right, s’bout four now. Should be when it’s most crowded today,” the pig said.

“You sure we can do this, boss? I mean, s’only seven of us,” Tinlil inquired.

“Like I said, buddy: buncha fat kids eating junk food and some idiots taking selfies. Lonny, Hurley, Collin, you three head over to the second security station and disable the cameras and alarms and shit. Me, Tinlil, and Tony will head to the first station and take out the guards there. Greg, you stay in the truck and drive ‘round the rear of the park where that new ride is being constructed. Prolly gonna need a quick escape after shit hits the fan.”

Everyone inside the armored truck agreed to their assigned tasks, and moments afterwards, Seamus nodded and turned around to look at the five anthros crammed in the back of the truck.

“All right then. Let’s get paid, boys!”

Seamus opened the side door and hopped outside, where he was immediately blasted with the sounds of people clamoring and children screaming or shouting with joy as they entered the park. He listened to the back doors opening and closing as the five anthros got out. Afterwards, Seamus banged on the van, and Greg drove away and merged into traffic. Seamus looked at Hurley, Collin and Lonny as they each carried a duffel bag. He nodded, sending the trio away to infiltrate the amusement park from another entrance. Then Seamus walked alongside Tinlil and Tony, both of whom were carrying heavy duffel bags with them as well. As they walked on the outskirts of the park beside a lush garden that had various roses and precious blue flowers mixed in, the trio spotted two off-duty guards walking off the premises, probably to go get lunch.

“Fuck,” Tinlil murmured. “All it takes is one guard to spot us and we could be fucked.”

“This is an _amusement park_ , Tin. Not some fuckin’ army base or an airport terminal. Calm your ass down.”

Seamus glared at Tinlil when he noticed that the opossum was sweating. He snorted, debating whether or not he’d have to kill the anthro if he got cold footpaws later on. Still walking, the anthros passed by one of the security checkpoints that were near the parking garage. They waved to the guards that were standing outside; none of them questioned them about their uniforms. And once they were able to get inside an elevator, the trio sighed with relief as they stood inside with their backs pressed to the wall. Seamus folded his arms and sniffed while Tony and Tinlil immediately glared at him.

“Don’t you _dare_ fart in here,” Tony growled.

Seamus snickered and nodded. “Fine.”

Seamus stayed true to his word. All of them were on an important mission; the last thing he needed to do was piss off his teammates with his obnoxious toilet humor. Once the elevator reached the floor leading into the parking garage, he stepped outside, with Tinlil and Tony trailing behind him. At that point, Seamus cut a huge fart, making sure his teammates were close enough to hear the gas bubbles popping.

“Fucking—”

Tony groaned and plugged his nose, while Tinlil immediately walked out the way and snarled at the pig. Seamus just looked at them and shrugged.

“What? We’re out the elevator,” he said innocently.

The pig chuckled as he resumed walking forward and left Tinlil and Tony to bask in his flatulence. Eventually, both of them regrouped with the pig, although they made sure to walk in front of him this time. Seamus examined the level of the parking garage used solely for security guards and noticed most of the cars were empty. A few guards were walking towards the elevator leading to the park’s entrance, while Seamus and his two cronies were walking to the elevator that would take them straight into the park. Four guards—two humans and two anthros—were standing by the elevator talking amongst one another. Seamus rushed in front of Tinlil and Tony again so he could speak to the guards. The leader of the group, a tall, red-headed man, gestured for Seamus and his trio to stop.

“Confirmation,” he said.

Seamus blinked. “Whuh?”

“Can’t enter the park unless you give us the confirmation number.”

“The guards outside didn’t say anything about us giving them a confirmation number.”

The tall guard rolled his eyes and huffed. “Those stupid-ass—someone needs to fire those dibshits and tell them to stop slacking off. Look, you three seem legit as far as I know. I’m assuming you’re the new guys from out of town?”

“Yeah,” Tinlil answered. “Heard you guys needed a little boost in security, so we’re here to fill in for the week.”

The guard nodded, while another guard standing by the elevator looked at a security camera with a raised eyebrow.

“Good. So, the number, please.”

“Right, uh…” Seamus rubbed his forehead and chuckled. “Hold on, hold on. My superior might’ve given us…right! 7X29BJQ. That’s it, right?”

The tall guard nodded. “That’s the one. Now—”

“Hey, what’s up with the camera? The light’s not on,” another guard asked.

Seamus glared at the security camera. The red light indicating it was still operational had shut off. _Shit_ , the pig thought. _Thought these clowns wouldn’t have noticed._

“Eh, probably just a glitch. Call Howzer and them and see if there’s something wrong on their end.”

Tinlil stammered. “Uh, if you’d like, we can head over there ourselves and determine what the problem is!”

The leader of the four guards shook his head before he grabbed his own walkie-talkie and called for the other team of security guards. “Hey, Howzer. Something’s going on with the camera down here. You idiots accidentally shut it off again?”

No response. Seamus slyly turned and looked at Tinlil and Tony, gesturing for them to get ready. Meanwhile, the red-haired guard grumbled for a moment before he lifted his radio to his mouth again.

“Howzer, you copy? Howzer? …Oh, fuck—if you’re sleeping again!”

The red-haired human huffed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Behind him, the two anthro guards were checking in on the other guards around the amusement park. Seamus exhaled and adjusted his belt before he slyly reached for the handgun in his holster.

“Able and Tanya are doing just fine. So’s Sasha,” responded an anthro guard.

“But no one in Howzer’s station’s replying. God…”

The human being shook his head and huffed, while Seamus tried to move past them. “Sorry about your troubles. If you’ll excuse us, we’ll just go up there—”

The human leader raised a hand and pressed it against Seamus’ big chest. The pig grunted as he was shoved backwards, moments before the guard glared at Tony and Tinlil’s duffel bags.

“Open those.”

Seamus chuckled. “It’s only some tools! Couple magazines for our handguns. Nothing sinister.”

“Good. Then you won’t mind me having a looksee.”

Seamus turned and looked at Tony and Tinlil, all while the four guards waited patiently for them to open their bags. One of the guards standing beside the elevator was already reaching for his gun as Tony and Tinlil set the bags down. They crouched for a moment and started to unzip the bags. And then Seamus pulled out his handgun and shot the red-haired human in his abdomen. He instantly got on the ground while Tony and Tinlil pulled out their own handguns and shot the remaining three guards several times. After their bodies fell, Seamus stood back up and shot the human leader in his forehead, ensuring he’d stay down. The pig huffed and started to pant.

“ _Fuck_. Not gonna take long before someone sees these bodies!”

“Fuck it,” said Tony. “We’ll just regroup with Lonny and the others and take it from there!”

Seamus led the other two anthros towards the elevator and called for a car. They waited until it came down before they rushed inside carrying the duffel bags. _Stay calm, Seamus. You’re still on schedule; it’s only a few bodies. You got plenty of guns and ammo. You’ll be fine._ The pig rubbed his hands together until he heard the elevator bell ding. Once the doors opened, he was welcomed to the sight of dozens of humans and anthros alike walking down a stone path within the park. Everything was a colorful amalgamation of brown-skinned and light-skinned humans all walking around with their cell phones glued to their ears, carrying balloons or munching on different kinds of food. When Seamus walked outside, he noticed another guard station was on his right, and two guards were standing beside the elevator guarding it. Some human was crammed inside of a giant suit of some cartoon character the pig wasn’t familiar with. Various black street lamps were scattered near the sidewalks. Another garden full of sunflowers was inches away from the guard station. As Seamus took a few steps forward, he was assaulted with dozens of different odors and fragrances: some shirtless foxes who were sweating in the sun, boiled hotdogs, French fries smothered in chili, a puddle of vomit someone neglected to clean up, and more.

“Shame. Never got to spend vacation time here,” Tony said.

“It’s _one_ fuckin’ amusement park. There’s five in the city. Get over it,” Seamus snarled.

The trio slowly walked out into the crowd, mingling with the overabundant amount of pedestrians who were there on vacation or on a tour. Seamus cleared his throat when he saw a huge crowd forming near a dance stage with some kids dancing along with the large humans dressed in their silly costumes and looking like a stuffed animal. Seamus growled as he looked at the stage and started to reach for his gun.

“Seamus, hold up,” said Tinlil. “We don’t need to attract—”

“Hey, you guys.”

_Oh fuck. Don’t come over here._ Seamus looked at the guard who was slowly coming towards him.

“Ignore him. Keep going to the station.”

Seamus gestured for the other two anthros to keep walking.

“Hey!”

_Fuck off, nigger._

“HEY!”

_GO AWAY!_

“Stop walking now!”

Seamus huffed and stopped. He didn’t turn around though, and instead gestured for Tinlil and Tony to open their bags.

“You three, gimme your badge numbers.”

The pig turned around and looked at the dark-skinned guard. “Oh, yeah…badge numbers, eh? Didn’t know you niggers could read.”

Seamus couldn’t help himself. He just smirked at the guard as he scowled at him and forced himself to restrain his anger. The pig looked around and noticed that a few pedestrians were looking at him. Seamus slowly backed away and crouched down as he reached for the open duffel bags.

“All right, get up and come with me. Get up—FUCK!”

Seamus grinned as he pulled out a light machine gun. And then he aimed for the security guard and riddled his head with bullets. Seamus wasn’t sure what deafened him more: the sound of everyone screaming hysterically, or the noise of all the gunfire that was coming from his light machine gun, along with Tony’s and Tinlil’s. Dozens of shell casings had fallen on the ground, mixing in with the various dead bodies and body parts that had been blown off some of the civilians. Seamus didn’t bother leaving any of the wounded alive. Some of the parents who were trying to shield their children were gunned down in a volley of bullets, while the people who were trying to crawl towards the security guard’s weapons had a fraction of their skull blown off. When the area was clear, Seamus set his gun down for a moment so he could reach into the bag and pull out a belt full of grenades. He wrapped the explosives around his waist while Tinlil and Tony gathered the rest of the weapons and ammunition. Before he could resume his rampage, Seamus heard his radio crackling.

“…fuck just happened?! I’m seeing people running our way screaming their heads off!”

Seamus grabbed his radio and replied. “Ehhhhh, _slight_ change in plans. Go ahead and start shooting; they know we’re here now!”

Seamus heard another swear word over the radio. He ignored it and gestured for Tony and Tinlil to follow him. Together, all three of them walked along the stone path leading up an incline that would take them into the heart of Universal Gardens. As they walked, they came across oblivious pedestrians—some were busy walking out of the bathroom, while others had ignored the civilians who had escaped Seamus’ initial attack. The pig didn’t spare anyone he saw. All the anthros and humans, all the adults, children, security guards, servers handing out food, people dressed in oversized costumes—none of it mattered. They were all targets to him—targets incapable of fighting back, nonetheless. When the group reached the top of the hill, a team of security guards were racing up the incline to meet them. Seamus pulled the pin on one of his grenades and tossed it down the path. Only two of the guards noticed the explosive and dove out the way; the others were caught in the explosion and had various limbs blown off their bodies. The guards who had survived were cut down by Seamus when he walked over to them and shot them. The pig exhaled gently as he set a new ammunition belt into the feed tray, while Tinlil shot at a kiosk.

When Seamus finished reloading, he turned to his left and grinned as he fired at a merry-go-round, gunning down any of the parents and children who were still scrambling to get off the ride. Then he turned and nonchalantly shot up a souvenir shop that dozens were hiding inside. He wasn’t sure how many people he killed—if any—so he grabbed another grenade and tossed it into the building. Someone screamed, while another civilian sprinted for the grenade and tried to toss it away, only for it to blow up in her face. Seamus chuckled softly, and then shouted when he was shot twice in the gut.

“FUCK!”

Seamus snarled as he fell to his knees, the machine gun suddenly feeling much heavier. Another group of security guards were gunned down by Tony while Tinlil rushed over to the swine and helped him up.

“You good, boss?”

Seamus groaned. “Yeah, got it in the vest. URGH! Still fuckin’ hurts though.”

The trio continued their rampage throughout the park, tossing grenades into crowded stores and souvenir shops as they shot up any civilians or guards they encountered along the way. None of them were sure how many bodies had fallen since the shooting started, and from the faint sound of the sirens in the distance, someone must’ve called the police and ambulance. Seamus even heard a fire engine’s klaxon blaring a couple of miles out, and the pig knew that his whole team would be in danger soon. Luckily for them, they spotted more gunfire up ahead coming from the right side of the streets. A few security guards fell down, and then Seamus smiled when he saw three more anthros walking out into the open carrying shotguns or assault rifles. He jogged over to them and whistled noisily.

“HEY! C’mon, let’s get movin’; we gotta head to the rendezvous point! Won’t be long ‘til the cops get here!”

Lonny, the dark brown otter, nodded and spat on the ground as he led his team alongside Seamus’ group. The pig’s rampage progressed the further along the group of anthros moved throughout the park. When the team reached a sign that split the park into two separate paths, Seamus instructed Lonny’s team to head to the left, while Seamus, Tony, and Tinlil went right. As they continued mowing down civilians, Seamus heard a violent screech and turned to look at a gate that led to the streets. He paused for a moment, and then shouted when the gate busted down, and a heavily-armored van with the letters “S.C.P.D.” scribbled on it backed up into the park. The back doors opened, and a team of armored police officers hopped outside all carrying assault rifles.

“SHIT! Back up, back up!” Seamus shouted.

Seamus shot at the officers, hitting a few of them in their helmets or armor, but only killing two of them. The officers all either returned fire or resorted to rescuing some of the civilians caught in the crossfire. Seamus, Tony and Tinlil were a few yards away from the van hiding behind either concrete buildings or near thick trees growing within the foundation. In-between them all were a few civilians who were lying on the ground, whimpering and covering their heads as they hoped for the bullets to whiz past their bodies. The pig looked at the opossum and the gray wolf and grinned widely as they fired at the officers. Seamus, meanwhile, switched to his assault rifle and looked through the scope. As he did, he switched to the semi-automatic function on his rifle and zoomed in on one of the civilians. He shot a teenage girl in her scalp, before moving his rifle to the left and hitting a young boy in the right side of his head. Licking his tusks, Seamus aimed for the mother shielding her two children and shot her and her son in the head as well. One of the officers must’ve noticed what Seamus was doing, because he immediately dove in front of the surviving girl and grunted as he took a bullet in the chest for her.

“Stop fucking around! HIT THE—ARGH! FUCK!”

Seamus turned and looked at Tony. Three bullets smashed through the slab of concrete he was hiding behind, puncturing his body armor and nicking the tip of his left ear. He snarled as he stumbled out into the open, and two of the officers wasted no time shooting him an additional four more times in the stomach. Tony fell down, and Tinlil swore.

“Shit—GO BACK!”

Seamus panted as he stood up and began to walk backwards, switching to his light machine gun and spraying a volley of bullets at the officers in front of him. A couple of them took cover, but no one else could withstand the bullets tearing through their body armor, and their bodies were shredded apart. As Seamus began to retreat, Tinlil panted and looked at the gray wolf’s bleeding body.

“Wait—WAIT! Tony ain’t dead, boss!”

Seamus looked at Tony as he struggled to sit up. A giant cloud of crimson-colored fluids exploded from his head, and he fell back down with two bullets in his face. Seamus snorted.

“He is now!”

Seamus turned around and jogged as fast as his hefty body would allow him. He panted and sweated as he ran across the stone tiles in the ground, wincing and slowing down on occasion when the pain in his chest flared from time to time. He knew one of his ribs was probably cracked from the bullet wounds earlier, but no matter. It’d be worth it in the end. Seamus could lose a whole arm and he wouldn’t care. All that mattered were the nine zeroes he saw on that website, and the sheer amount of riches he would bathe himself in once this was all over. Seamus’ daydreams were rudely interrupted when another volley of bullets whizzed past his face. He screamed and stumbled, collapsing to the ground just beside a bench. He covered his head and waited for the bullets to end, only to stutter when someone crawled towards him. Then a sharp pain flared up in his ribcage, and the pig screamed as he felt metal ripping through his flesh. Someone hiding beneath the bench had darted forward and removed one of the knives from Seamus’ holster.

“FUCKIN’ CUNT!” he snarled.

Seamus rolled over and punched the woman in her face before she had the chance to stab him again. As she lied on the ground, Seamus snatched the knife from her hand and plunged it into her throat three times. He snarled with annoyance as he grabbed his side, feeling the blood that was running down his midriff. As if things couldn’t get worse, Seamus could hear the sound of a helicopter slowly entering the park’s premise. 

“Let’s go, let’s go! Get up, boss!”

Seamus inhaled sharply and got to his feet, albeit now it was nearly impossible for him to sprint. He jogged slowly, gritting his teeth and nearly stumbling, agitating his stab wound. Seamus killed a few more civilians hiding around him before he grabbed his radio and messaged Greg.

“GREG! GET THE FUCK OVER HERE NOW!”

“I can’t! There’s cops and paramedics evacuating the park and blocking the roads; they’re telling me to turn around!”

“I! DON’T! CARE! Run ‘em all over! Get out the truck and gun everyone down; you got a fucking _machine gun_ in there! Throw a bunch of grenades in the street—JUST GET YOUR ASS TO THE RENDEZVOUS NOW!”

Seamus set his radio back into its holster before he grunted and resumed limping again. He could see Lonny, Hurley, and Collin up ahead, all of whom were close to the construction site but taking cover behind one of the souvenir shops. Another van had appeared outside the park, and now police officers were hopping over the fences and running directly into the premises. The pig huffed when he noticed that there were less civilians around and more security guards and heavily-armored field agents.

“Fuck this,” Seamus snarled.

He held his assault rifle firmly before he switched to its secondary firing weapon. The rifle had a grenade launcher attached to it. Grinning, Seamus walked towards Lonny’s gang’s hiding spot before he peered around the corner. Seamus yelped as several bullets nearly took his face off. He grabbed one of his grenades and tossed it out into the open, waiting impatiently for it to explode. Once it did, Seamus stepped out into the open and realized that some of the officers were dead, while the others were hiding or trying to recover from the blast. He shot one grenade from the grenade launcher, and it exploded on impact, taking out two officers hiding near a drink stand. Then Seamus shot off another grenade, sending the explosive through the small building that showed off the history of the park. The entire first floor of the building was destroyed, and the resulting explosion sent clouds of dust and smoke around the area, along with giant blocks of glass, mortar, and concrete. Seamus fired a third grenade, this time blowing apart the remaining three officers. He could hear the incessant sound of the helicopter blades spinning above him, but he disregarded the sound so he could point his rifle at an ice cream shop.

“Boss!” Tinlil shouted.

Seamus licked his teeth and chuckled as he launched a fourth grenade into the shop with several kids and parents inside. The entire shop exploded, sending a wave of glass, flames, metal and concrete all over the ground.

“BOSS!”

Seamus turned to look at the opossum. And then shrieked when a bullet clipped his right ear, tearing it in half. The pig shouted as he reached up and grasped his bleeding ear, while Lonny looked up at the black and blue chopper and swore as the vehicle hovered in place.

“WHAT THE FUCK—”

Lonny’s head exploded. He fell to the ground with his left eyeball destroyed, along with a good chunk of his skull. Hurley snarled as he looked up at the helicopter and promptly pointed his light machine gun at the vehicle.

“FUCKING COPS!”

Seamus panted as he looked at Hurley, watching as the burly lion pointed his light machine gun at the chopper and started to fire repeatedly. He waved Tinlil and Collin to ignore both him and the chopper and to continue on towards the ride that was under construction. Seamus huffed as he resumed half-jogging across the ground, limping and wincing as he felt a burning pain flowing through his abdomen and what was left of his ear. The sniper inside the helicopter continued to fire off more shots, narrowly missing Seamus and his cronies. So many bullets collided with the chopper that they ruptured the exterior and fuel line, along with the rotors and interior. Seamus turned briefly and saw two police officers fall from the hovering vehicle, with Hurley still mercilessly shooting at the craft. Suddenly, the helicopter’s engine started to die down, and black smoke belched from the aircraft, hissing and sputtering as sparks flew. The pig frowned as he saw the chopper heading right towards them.

“SHIT! GET DOWN!”

Seamus threw himself face forward and covered his head, along with Tinlil. He panted and waited for the vehicle to crash, shaking and praying that none of the officers storming Universal Gardens came inside. Someone shrieked, and Seamus heard what sounded like soft meat getting blended through a high-powered fan. Then there was a tremendous crash that deafened Seamus, the noise sounding like a giant tower of glass, rusty metal, cement and rubble all falling over. Another cloud of smoke appeared, and the pig coughed multiple times as his eyes burned. When he got back up, he noticed that one of the buildings had collapsed, the helicopter (and the people inside) was obliterated, and Collin was nowhere to be found. None of that mattered though. Once he was on his feet, he resumed limping for the construction site.

“Collin? Collin!” Seamus shouted.

Seamus looked down when he nearly slipped in a puddle of grease. And then he frowned once he noticed that he was walking through what was left of Collin.

“Oh god…is-is that—”

“I told him to get down!” Seamus shouted, cutting off Tinlil. “Keep moving, we’re almost there!”

Hurley and Tinlil quickly joined with Seamus—which wasn’t difficult, given the pig was moving the slowest now. More bullets continued to fly their way, and the pig stopped bothering with all of the officers and guards. Whenever he had the chance, he’d shoot at a helpless civilian, but the more time they wasted, the easier it’d be for the cops to catch them. Once they reached the ride under construction, Hurley shot off the lock around the heavy-duty fence that kept civilians from coming inside. He opened up the gate and gestured Tinlil and Seamus to get in first. Afterwards, Seamus grunted as he dragged his feet around the dirt, broken chunks of concrete, and clumps of wood left on the ground. He tossed a grenade beneath a cement mixer and watched as the vehicle exploded, moments before he fired one more grenade from his assault rifle. The grenade exploded right against the metal supports of the half-finished ride. Grinning, the pig observed the ride as it slowly listed, and then fell onto the ground with an ear-splitting crash, knocking over construction equipment and crushing a pickup truck. When Seamus turned and began to walk by a trailer, two people stepped out the small building holding guns and fired at the trio.

“OH—”

Seamus shouted as he was shot in the chest again, while Hurley howled when bullets hit him in his groin twice and shattered his right kneecap. Tinlil gunned both people down before he rushed over to Seamus and helped him walk. Hurley, meanwhile, was whining and grasping his bleeding crotch.

“AGH! Damn it, that almost went through,” Seamus complained. “The fuck kinda foreman just hides out—”

“Doesn’t matter! Let’s go!” Tinlil shouted.

Seamus shoved the opossum off of him as Tinlil kept moving forward. As they started looking for the exit, their radios crackled.

“Get away from the gate! I’m comin’ through now!”

Seamus didn’t have time to respond to Greg before they heard a vehicle screeching. Thinking instinctively, Seamus pointed his assault rifle at the gate just a few yards ahead of them and fired a grenade at it. It blew the gate apart, sending wood and metal fragments all over the place, and giving Greg a proper entrance to park the van at. And soon enough, they saw a van backing up through the broken gate and parking inside the construction zone.

“Not the cops—that’s me! I had to steal one of their vans! Get in!” Greg shouted over the walkie-talkie.

Seamus looked at Tinlil as the opossum jogged for the van, the sirens blaring around them incessantly. Seamus could also hear Hurley whimpering pathetically, and when he looked at him, he saw tears running down his face. The lion tried to walk, but between his busted knee and his mutilated genitals, he couldn’t even move a foot forward. Seamus snorted, and then he shot him in the face twice. Huffing, the pig used the last amount of energy he could to limp his way over to the van. He dropped his light machine gun to get rid of some of his weight, and after Tinlil opened the back door, he waved for Seamus to hop inside. The pig strained himself noisily as he hauled his pudgy body inside, and then the opossum jumped in too and slammed the back doors.

“GO, GO!”

Greg slammed his foot on the gas pedal and drove outside the construction zone, which led back out onto one of the back roads. Seamus panted several times as he lied on his back and tried to massage his wounds. He gritted his teeth and sat up, only to shout when Greg found himself weaving through traffic.

“Shit guys, the whole damn police force is down here!” Greg shouted.

Seamus huffed. “Just…just do like I said: veer off the road and into the forest! We’ll dump the van afterwards.”

Seamus grunted as he started taking off his clothes alongside Tinlil. When both of them were down in their underwear, the pig looked down at his body and exhaled with relief. None of the bullets had punctured his body, but the knife wound had cut through the fat and flesh, and he was still bleeding. Besides said stab would and his maimed right ear, he was relatively okay. After Greg had entered the forest and drove far enough from the main roads, the pig instructed Greg to stop. He exhaled as he stood up and reached for his suppressed handgun.

“Okay…okay. We torch the van, uh, go-go find a new vehicle, and meet the client so we can get our money.”

“What about the news stations? All the cops, the TPO—everyone on this entire planet is gonna be looking for us, boss!”

Seamus smiled. “Relax, Tinlil. We’ll be fine.”

Without hesitating, Seamus lifted the handgun and aimed through the grates separating the driver’s seat from the back of the van. He shot Greg in the back of his head twice before swiftly aiming for Tinlil’s stomach and shooting him in the gut. The opossum grunted and coughed up blood, grunting and grasping his torso. Seamus just sniffed as he raised his pistol slightly and pointed the gun at his forehead.

“Boss…”

“You know I don’t like sharing.”

Another bullet softly erupted from the barrel of the gun, silencing Tinlil permanently. After killing Tinlil, Seamus exhaled and awkwardly stuck the gun down the back of his underwear. He opened up the back door, grabbed a grenade, and hopped outside. Then the pig limped a few yards away from the vehicle before he turned around, pulled the pin out the grenade, and tossed it into the van. Still limping, Seamus shouted and stumbled on his face when the van exploded, sending glass and bits of metal around the forest. The pig coughed a few times before he got back to his sore feet and resumed limping his way through the woods, occasionally grasping his torn ear as it continued to bleed. Seamus still had no vehicle, and he knew that someone somewhere probably captured his face using their cell phones, or that a survivor escaped the park and was telling the officers about Seamus’ physical description. But it didn’t matter.

Rast and Douglas would help him get out of this.


	13. Dynamic Duo

He sounded frantic over the phone, which was a first. He always imagined Douglas as being “calm” and “collected,” according to his words. But when he spoke to him over the phone, the shark sounded like he was dehydrating and choking to death from a lack of water. And whatever the problem was, he couldn’t speak of it via cell phone; Doug instructed him to come down to the city’s wharf. So Rast waited until it was late at night, and he drove down to the Port of Stercullo. He got outside of his car and nonchalantly walked around the port, rolling his tongue around his teeth as he stuck his paws inside his pockets. Sniffing the air and avoiding any dock workers, Rast squinted as he looked around the warehouses and the giant body of water, and saw Douglas standing on one of the piers smoking a cigar. Rast sniffled before he walked onto the pier, wincing a bit after a splinter got caught in his right footpaw.

“Stupid…hey, Mr. Kevro. Seems like I got more issues with my shoes—”

“Cut the shit,” Doug snapped. “No one’s listening. No one knows we’re here.”

Rast exhaled before he looked at Douglas’ white dress shirt and navy blue slacks. He was surprised that the shark wasn’t wearing a tie for once, and his dress shirt had multiple sweat stains around his armpits and collar. The rat could see Douglas’ gills frequently moving on their own whenever the giant fish panted.

“What’s up with you?”

Rast coughed when Douglas blew a cloud of cigar smoke in his face. “You’ve seen the news. You tell me.”

After the rat waved the smoke away, he opened his mouth and said, “Okay, so a buncha people got shot up in an amusement park. Who gives a fuck? It’s another mass shooting; people will forget about it when another one happens next month, or when the president does some other stupid shit that’ll only worsen the war.”

“The problem, Rast, is that Seamus was the one who carried it out! They figured out it was him somehow and now there’s a citywide hunt for him!”

Rast chuckled. “Good! Once the cops shoot his ass to pieces, we won’t have to worry about him anymore!”

Douglas blew out more smoke and tapped some ash off the end of his cigar. “Right. Well…Seamus might _not_ get shot to pieces. Seamus might _not_ keep his mouth shut. You see where I’m going?”

And just like that, Rast started to panic. His heart started racing, and the rodent immediately thought back to the box full of flash drives in his apartment. He heard the police car sirens some miles away and immediately turned around once the noise grew louder and louder. Suddenly, the noise died down, and the vehicles drove away from the port. When Rast turned and looked at Doug, he could see that the shark was just as jumpy over the sirens as he was. Rast watched as the shark bit down on his cigar and inhaled deeply, sucking in as much smoke and tobacco as possible.

“Shit…you think—”

“Bastard had the balls to call me _directly_. Said he needs the two of us to get him safe passage out of the city. I don’t know why he even needs our help; he’s getting paid a billion dollars for what he did! Allegedly.”

Rast stammered. “What does that mean?”

“Why do you think he shot up the amusement park? He found some contact on the dark web asking for someone to shoot up Universal Gardens for a billion dollars.”

Rast forced himself not to scream out of frustration. “Are you fucking… _kidding me_? What if that person was just a troll?! What kind of fucking idiot would even _think_ that something like this makes any sense?!”

Douglas chuckled. “You wanna know the best part? All this has blown up in _my_ face. The police commissioner, the man I’m paying loads of money to keep his officers away from our business? He’s dead. The governor’s ex-wife, along with their precious daughter? They’re both dead. So now my relationship with the governor is severely strained, even though I’m half the reason why his sorry-ass got elected. My off-the-books doctor who patched up my bullet wound? He’s in a coma. One of my assassins I sent into the park to go study his next target? Half his body was blown off. I can go on and on, pup. I’ve spent all damn day trying to clean up this giant mound of pig shit Seamus left on my doorstep!”

“And this all happened because he read a post online where someone offered him a billion dollars.”

Douglas nodded. “This is the kind of person we’re working with, pup. This is what Seamus does.”

“ARE YOU FUCK—” Rast lowered his voice and huffed. “So not only does he murder a few hundred people and get noticed by the cops, he wants us to help him get out the city. Christ…where is he? Just tell me where to drop him off so we can end this.”

“He’s hiding out somewhere in the Slums. Told me to look for some busted-up white van with broken windows and no wheels.”

Rast shut his eyes and exhaled as he ran a paw down his face. “Fine…fine. I’ll throw his ass on a spaceship myself if I have to.”

“No, you’re not,” Douglas said, before blowing out more smoke. “We can’t have this blow up in our faces again. As long as Seamus is out there, we’ll always be looking over our shoulders.”

Rast looked up at the smoking shark and blinked. He turned and spat out into the sea before he sniffed and wiggled his nose. “Y’know, Seamus always did wanna see my videos.”

“And I’m sure Seamus wouldn’t mind if you delivered a hefty supply of meat to his butcher shops.”

Rast chuckled softly as he grinned at the giant fish. “All right. I’ll let you know when it’s done then.”

The rat turned around and began to walk off the pier, smirking the entire time as he walked back over to his car.

___________________________________

It wasn’t hard to find him. Rast arrived at the Slums and exhaled as he got out of one of Seamus’ vans, realizing that driving around in his own car with a fugitive would do him no good. Once the rat stepped outside of the van, he wasn’t greeted to the typical scents of the city around him. Instead, it seemed more like he just walked into his apartment again after he had his water shut off for two months. The rat wiggled his nose as various different forms of musk bombarded him, making his fur stand up a bit when certain breeds of canines and felines all filled his lungs. He parked out on the street near a bus stop, and the first thing he saw was a skinny elk laying on the ground in front of a building wearing a blanket. Rast honestly didn’t know if the anthro was alive or dead; he could see the elk’s thin arms and knew he hadn’t eaten in a while. The rat ignored him and started walking forward, taking much care to ignore the piles of fecal matter and puddles of urine no one cleaned up.

As Rast walked forward, he came across a group of mice who looked just as dirty as him all huddling together around an empty metal barrel they were using to burn trash. He scrunched up his face as the acrid stench filled his lungs before he looked on the ground and heard various crunches. Rast looked down and frowned, surprised at the sheer amount of needles the homeless people left lying around. Up ahead, a human being wearing a beanie and tattered socks belched as he nonchalantly walked on the ground, stepping onto the needles and not caring over which ones got into his feet. Suddenly, someone tugged on Rast’s jeans, and the rat turned and saw some young, toothless woman holding out her hand. The rat snorted and spat in her face, and then resumed walking away. He stepped into an apartment building that had its wall torn down, exposing the disgusting innards to the rest of the city. The first thing Rast heard was two humans engaging in intercourse, with the woman lying on top of the man as he lazily lied on a mattress while the woman rode him. He turned away in disgust before he spotted a small group of reptiles doing drugs. Two salamanders were tapping their arms and injecting themselves with heroin, all while a crocodile with less than five teeth in his mouth was busy rubbing cocaine around his rotting gums.

He kept forgetting that this part of the city existed—and so did everyone else. It was no wonder why Seamus was hiding out here; even the cops didn’t want to risk catching something just from walking around in a giant cesspool of drugs and germs. Given what species he was, Rast didn’t seem to mind it much, and resumed his journey to find Seamus. The rodent wiggled his nose when he smelled something funky, and he turned and spotted a Hispanic man lazily vomit onto his shirt as he lied on a mattress, too exhausted to even lean over and puke on the ground. He smelled the same odor again and heard odd noises, and the rat spotted the broken-down van with no wheels positioned in a wide-open area. Rast approached the van from the front and looked through the windowless doors. No one was inside. He heard thick sputtering noises, followed by someone moaning. So Rast quickly rushed around to the back of the van, where he quickly opened up the rear doors. A familiar stench filled his lungs again, and the rodent spotted what seemed to be a body wrapped beneath a blanket. Seamus listened to another sputtering noise, and turned his head away when the stench of sulfur filled his lungs.

“Seamus? C’mon, get your fat ass up; I know it’s you.”

Rast reached over and tore off the blanket. He was staring at a greasy, fat pig who looked and smelled like Seamus. He was wearing the same kind of dirty white tank-top he usually wore, along with the same olive green basketball shorts he typically wore. But the pig didn’t respond. Rast frowned as he poked at the pig’s bottom, surprised at how foul his posterior smelled.

“Get up, Seamus. Or I’m gonna leave your ass here to rot.”

The pig didn’t respond. Not at first, anyway. Rast heard the pig grunting and moaning. He saw the beast’s toes curling as his curly tail moved a bit. Then Rast’s ears twitched as he listened to subtle hissing, and incessant crackling sounds. It wasn’t until Rast saw the seat of the shorts inflating like a balloon that the stench hit him. He immediately gagged and covered his muzzle with both paws and watched with disgust. By the time the pig finished, it looked like someone stuffed two grapefruits down the back of his shorts. The pig just exhaled casually, before he started to laugh. Rast lowered his paws and pinched the bridge of his muzzle.

“Gotcha, pup!”

Rast exhaled as the pig hopped out the van and looked at Rast with a wide smile on his face. _Still the same ole Seamus_ , Rast thought. _Still the same ole fuckin’ fat belly. Still the same ole stained clothes. Still the same ole beer and onion breath. Still the same fuckin’ apathy to soiling himself in public._ Rast just stayed still as Seamus walked over to him and embraced him, wrapping his thick arms around his back and squeezing him so tightly that Rast thought his spine would break. When the pig let go, Rast just rubbed his nose and exhaled.

“Didn’t think I’d see you so soon, pup!”

Rast blinked. “Didn’t think I’d have the pleasure of seeing you shit yourself again.”

Seamus laughed joyfully, spraying spittle from his mouth. “Hey, it happens! Ain’t like it’s the first time I’ve done it! ‘Sides, there ain’t no toilet in here! Where was I supposed to go: on the ground?” Seamus scoffed and waved a hand. “You know I get shy when I’m shitting in public! Can’t have anyone see me doing my business!”

“Right. And I’m sure you couldn’t just squat and take a dump in that van you were hiding in.”

“Pffft! Yeah, Rast, like I’m _really_ gonna waste my time crouching down and pulling down my shorts and underwear when I can just lie on my stomach and let my bowels do the rest!”

_Don’t bother. Let Seamus think the way he always does. I don’t got time to argue about this shit._

“I got a van parked outside. Let’s just go.”

Seamus nodded. “Gotcha.”

So Rast led Seamus all the way back over to the butcher van, making sure to walk in front of the pig instead of behind him. The second Seamus got into the passenger’s seat, he turned the A/C on full blast just to try and get rid of the stench. The windows were tinted, and he knew rolling them down would be a mistake. Once Rast started the ignition, he drove away from the decrepit buildings and got back onto the main roads.

“Guess you heard about that tragedy yesterday.”

“You mean Mass Shooting Number 5927? Yeah, I heard,” said Rast flatly.

Seamus chuckled as he rubbed his fingers together. “Was real fun, pup! Shame you weren’t there with us! Don’t think you know how to use them machine guns properly though; didn’t want you fuckin’ up the whole operation because of a screw-up.”

“Sure.”

“You know it’s…heh. It-it’s funny, actually. When I was gunning down all them humans yesterday, some of the ones I didn’t kill—they-they made like this…dying, braying noise. Like-like some donkey or some shit. Heh, didn’t even think humans could make those noises!”

“Well, humans _technically_ are animals, same as us.”

Seamus huffed. “What the news say? They give a status update or some shit?”

“They’re still sifting through the wreckage. Some buildings collapsed, crushed some people still inside. Workers are scrambling to try and free them. Last time I checked, they said over four hundred people were killed. Lotta Stercullo police officers too. Hell, even a chopper was shot down.”

Seamus laughed again, his big belly wiggling. “Good! That’s reeeeaaaal good! My client should be pleased at that. Universal Gardens probably won’t open again for a whole year or two! Billions and billions of dollars—POOF! S’a gone now!”

Rast sucked on his teeth. “And there’s probably gonna be a race war to boot. You do realize that _everyone_ involved in that attack was an anthro. Or were you too much of an idiot to hire so much as _one_ human being to help you carry out your massacre?”

Seamus shrugged. “Fuck it. The humans wanna go to war with us anthros, let ‘em! We were here long before them fuckers came to Tero; we’re gonna be here long after those furless fags die out the same way they did on Earth. Tch…fuckers never should’ve come here anyway. Lemme tell you sumthin’: if those humans go to war with us, that’s _good_. We get to show everyone on this planet who the real apex predators are. It’ll be payback for all our ancestors those humans slaughtered! All those grandparents of mine that ended up in a chop shop—”

“You run a chain of butcher shops, Seamus. You run an organization that chops up pork and beef, and then you sell it for money. _You yourself_ have no problem eating any kind of pork. And you are a fucking pig.”

Rast slowly turned and glared at Seamus when he stopped at a red light. “Shut. Your fucking. Disgusting. Tusk-filled. Mouth.”

The pig just smirked at Rast before he licked his tusks. “What if I don’t wanna shut my mouth?”

_Just hold on. Let him talk. It won’t matter soon anyway._

“Light’s green.”

Rast pressed his footpaw on the gas pedal and drove forward. Seamus exhaled and picked at his nose, scraping out a large glob of snot before wiping it off on the dash.

“You don’t even like humans. Why do you give a shit if a race war starts?”

“Because that’s going to severely complicate my side project I got going on. Not to mention Doug’s business. He’s already pissed at what you did; it’s gonna be harder for him to bribe his way outta trouble because you killed some of his contacts. The police commissioner was in that park, Seamus! The cops are probably gonna start following me now; they already suspect I was there at that shootout in Brinbark County last month!”

Seamus shrugged. “Eh. Not my problem.”

_Fuck this_ , Rast thought. _I can’t wait._ Rast took his left paw off the steering wheel and exhaled as he slyly put his paw into the pocket region of his hoody. While Seamus looked out the tinted window, Rast grabbed a syringe and slowly took it out. He flicked his eyes at Seamus multiple times, checking to see if he would move his head. Instead, all Rast heard was a series of muffled, bubbly sputtering sounds. Seamus chuckled as the stink of excrement and rotten eggs filled his lungs.

“Whoops! Guess I still got gas crammed up in there!”

He struck fast. Rast snarled violently as he stabbed Seamus in the side of his neck with the syringe and pressed down. He plunged the needle so far inside that the pig started to bleed. Seamus shouted after he was hit with the needle, but it was too late. Rast stared at the pig as he began to pant. He watched as the pig tried to reach for his throat, but he was already too weak. Rast snorted as the pig slouched over in the seat and thumped his head on the window, his eyelids drooping.

“Fucking _finally_.”

________________________________

Rast grunted as he smacked Seamus in his face so hard he nearly hurt his paw. The pink pig snorted and shook his head as he woke up breathing softly. As Seamus awoke, Rast walked over to the camera he had mounted on the stand and hit the record button.

“Mmf…fuck. Puh…pup? Fuck you do…fuck’s going on?”

“Do you have _any_ idea how disgusting it was to undress you?”

Seamus started to breathe heavily as he looked around the warehouse. “Where am I? This-this wasn’t what Doug agreed to. You’re supposed to get me out the city! AND WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY CLOTHES?!”

Rast grinned. “Look around you. This is _your_ warehouse. Your abandoned warehouse. Y’know, the one you said I could have for that ‘favor’ all those weeks ago?”

Rast folded his arms as he looked at the pig. He waited for the realization to sink in. His ankles were shackled together, along with his hands. He was completely naked and resting on a metal table, his body filled with enough drugs to bring down an elephant. He wasn’t going anywhere. And when Seamus saw the camera with its red light on, Rast almost wanted to burst out laughing with glee.

“Hehe, okay, okay, I…I get it! I…I get it. You wanna blackmail me! You want me to confess! This is all some sick ploy from that fuckin’ shark! Well…well, you-you know what? I’m gonna do it. Here it is. Here’s the confession of Seamus Osgranov!”

Rast leaned against a second table that had all of his usual weapons on it and stared at the swine. Seamus looked at the camera and exhaled.

“Truth is…I…I’m not a good person. Deep down, I’m very, very vile. I’m a disgusting… _vile_ creature.” Seamus paused and closed his eyes. And then he spoke again. “I spit in my customers’ food. Yeah. Spit a fat-ass loogie right up in their soup when they’re not looking. Um, I don’t like changing my clothes. They’re gonna get dirty anyway; why bother? I don’t like to shower, don’t like to brush my teeth, and I fart in public. Around other people. Intentionally. Hehe, it’s fun spreading my stink around!”

Rast, shockingly, was not the slightest bit angry. He just reached backwards as he ran his fingers along a series of cleavers, machetes, knives, and other hazardous equipment. He picked up a set of pliers and repeatedly opened the jaws of them.

“…because I was busy taking a shit. Sometimes I piss and shit myself on purpose just because I’m too lazy to go to the toilet! I spend most of my time in my office masturbating to porn when I should be ordering supplies my employees need! Oh, and I hate all you humans. All you niggers, all you sand niggers, you fuckin’ spics—I hate _all of you_. And when your species _finally_ goes extinct, I’m just gonna run up to all your graves and dump a big ol’ pile of pig shit on ‘em!”

Rast walked over to Seamus once the pig took a huge breath and stopped reciting his “sins” on the camera.

“There! Think that’s everything. So, cut the bullshit, and let me—”

Rast grabbed Seamus’ left thumb and put the finger in-between the pliers’ jaws. Gritting his teeth and squeezing as hard as he could, he compressed the pliers, and then heard a squelching crunch. Seamus squealed as his thumb slid right off, and blood began to shoot from his hand. Rast just looked at the pig as he tried to jerk himself around, but the drugs were still taking a toll on his bodily functions. He could only scream and thrash his head around.

“MOTHERFUCKER! YOU FUCKING COCK-SUCKING FAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Rast took off another finger, this time cutting through the bone, skin and flesh a lot easier than with the thumb. Once again, the pig thrashed around and kept screaming and shouting profanity at the rat, but he didn’t care. All his other victims did the same. Seamus was no different from any of them.

“I’M GONNA BITE OFF YOUR FUCKIN’ DICK WHEN I GET OFF THIS TABLE! GO ON! GO ON—TAKE ANOTHER FINGER! WATCH WHAT THE FUCK—”

Rast took a third finger. This time, however, he got more personal and bit it off. The rat took much joy in clamping his teeth down on Seamus’ greasy thumb, breaking through the skin and sucking up the blood that dribbled down his hand. Then, with a sickening crunch, the finger came off, and Rast jerked it away from Seamus’ bleeding hand. Finger in maw, Rast leaned forward and spat the finger back into the pig’s face, watching as it bounced off his snout. The rat was about to laugh when he felt something moving around his mouth. Rast rubbed his cheek and frowned before he spat out another small bone. Curious, Rast opened his mouth and ran his tongue around his teeth. One of them had chipped.

“Fucking…” Rast groaned and shut his mouth before he looked at Seamus again. The pig was whimpering and shaking uncontrollably, going into shock. Rast smacked him several times just to make sure he didn’t pass out.

“Uh-uh. You’re gonna stay up for all of this. You hear me?”

Seamus looked up at the rat and spat on his chest. Rast looked down at the glob of spit running down his fur before he exhaled and walked over to the front of the table. He sniffled as he reached over and grabbed Seamus’ penis, rubbing it gently until the shaft started to elongate. Weakly, the pig laughed and winked at Rast.

“This…this what you into, pup? You-you get off to this…you wanna give me a final pawjob ‘fore you kill me?”

“Not exactly.”

Rast waited until the penis was almost fully erect. And then he walked over to the table, grabbed a pair of small bolt cutters, and placed them around Seamus’ erect penis. The pig screeched.

“OKAY, FUCK! FUCK—STOP! I’LL-I’LL CONFESS!”

“Oh? So _now_ you wanna confess?”

“YES! Yes—okay?! Just…please,” Seamus whimpered.

Rast nodded and pointed at the camera. “Go on.”

Seamus shivered and started to sweat. “I-I did it. I shot up Universal Gardens, okay?! I killed all those cops; I-I killed all those parents; I killed all those stupid brats texting on their phones and stuffing their faces with ice cream! I’m the one who’s been kidnapping humans and chopping up their bodies, selling their flesh and organs on the black market! It was me…okay?! Hundreds of innocent people are dead ‘cause of me!”

Seamus looked at Rast and scowled. “THERE! I SAID IT! NOW LET ME GO!”

“See…here’s the thing, Seamus. If I let you go…won’t change nothin’. The damage has been done. Even with that confession, we can’t fix what you did. We can’t resurrect the dead; we can’t reverse all the hate humans have for us anthros now. It’s all _your_ fault.”

Seamus whimpered, his eyes watering. “Pup…please. We’re-we’re friends…you’ve known me for years. You’ve-you’ve eaten at my diner for years!”

Rast chuckled. “Friends? Let me tell you something, _friend_. You disgust me. Everytime I stand in front of you, I keep debating on whether or not your breath or your body odor will make me pass out. You keep using slanderous comments like ‘nigger’ and ‘faggot’ for no reason other than the fact that you _can_. It’s not ‘cool’ or ‘edgy’ or attractive. It’s annoying. Let’s not forget that you stole from me, _friend_! You stole my videos and tried to extort money from me! And then you tried to kill me!”

“So fuckin’ what?! You ain’t dead; stop whining about it like a crybaby bitch!”

Rast didn’t bother giving the pig a response. He just started to squeeze the bolt cutters, slowly compressing the jaw around Seamus’ penis.

“WAIT! Wait…you-you can’t kill me. I made you!”

The rat blinked. “What?”

“I fuckin’ made you, Rast! I was the only one who knew who you truly were! I was the only one who knew that you hated society, that deep down, you wanted to ‘express’ your feelings, but you never could! I was the one who knew you wanted to be famous and-and get away from your shitty life! You were a fuckin’ _robot_ , Rast! You weren’t happy! You never were! But-but that day when you…when you finally came to me, I knew you just _snapped_. I knew my words got to you! And-and—a-and that…what you did—it was building up inside you all this time! I…I helped you, Rast,” Seamus whimpered. “I made you truly happy. _I_ did that!”

Rast sucked on his teeth and smiled. “No, you didn’t. _You_ did not tell me to kidnap those two college kids. _You_ did not tell me to rape them. _You_ did not tell me to torture them to death. All _you_ did?” The rat chuckled. “All you did was loan me some drugs and a van. That’s it. Everything else—the filming, the raping, the torture, disposing of the bodies—I did all that shit _on my own_. So no, Seamus…you _didn’t_ help me. You _didn’t_ make me happy. I made myself happy!”

Rast grinned when he heard Seamus whimpering again, his eyes welling with tears. Then the rat looked down at Seamus’ shaft as a small strand of drool began to run down his mandible.

“And nothing brings me more joy…than doing _this_!”

Rast squeezed the bolt cutters as hard as he could. The pig’s member squelched before emitting a faint thump as it plopped on the table. The rat couldn’t hear anything but incessant, hysterical shrieking and squealing. He sounded like an actual feral pig that was about to be slaughtered, unable to defend itself as the slayer picked up a knife and started cutting the sow’s stomach open. Rast stared at the blood oozing from Seamus’ groin and licked his teeth, moments before he dropped the bolt cutters and walked over to the table. Realizing that Seamus was getting some of his strength back, the rat picked up a cleaver, walked back over to the pig, and swung the cleaver down just above his right foot. Seamus squealed again, and a stream of blood gushed out and splattered everywhere. Rast lifted the cleaver and struck the leg again, hacking away at it until the right foot was messily severed off.

“I’LL KILL YOU! I’LLFUCKINGKILLYOUI’LLFUCKINGKILLYOUMOTHERFUCKER! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU YA FUCKIN’—”

Seamus stopped swearing when Rast proceeded to hack away at the pig’s left leg. When both of his feet were cut off, Rast exhaled and set the cleaver down, shortly before he walked over to the table and picked up a metal spoon, along with a scalpel. When he walked back over to the screeching Seamus, he noticed that the pig was shaking uncontrollably and his stumps were releasing a pool of blood all over the table. He stood by Seamus’ head this time, and promptly lowered the spoon and scalpel down to Seamus’ left eyeball. Using both tools as quickly as possible, Rast dug the spoon into Seamus’ eye, and then plunged the scalpel in as well and started cutting at the optic nerve. When it was severed, he snarled as he roughly dug his claws into the pig’s eye socket and gouged out the eyeball, holding it in his paw like it were a special trophy. Seamus screamed for a moment, but his shouts quickly turned into gurgles, and the pig violently threw up all over his body. Rast stared at the corpulent anthro as he soiled his body and started moaning and shaking repeatedly, his body going into shock again.

“Now, now, Seamus, no worries! I’m gonna keep your other eye in…I want you to see what I’m gonna do to you next!”

Rast walked next to Seamus’ big, thick gut and placed the tip of the scalpel against his chest cavity.

“You know…I always did wonder if it was possible to choke someone with their own intestines…”

___________________________________

Rast exhaled as he parked the van outside the butcher shop. He stepped out of the vehicle and left the motor running, moments before he knocked on the front door and rubbed his nose. A brief moment passed, and then a chubby human being with a large beard walked outside wearing a bloody apron.

“Oh…uh, hi? Whatcha doin’ with Seamus’ van?”

“Seamus had to leave town, last minute emergency. He told me he wanted to send you a late-night package before he left?”

“Huh…all right. Not the first time this has happened, but Seamus usually gives me a heads-up first.”

Rast walked to the back of the van and opened up the double-doors, revealing several packages of meat that had been stuffed inside tightly-sealed plastic or wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. The butcher looked at all the meat inside and whistled.

“Damn! What’d you do, slaughter a gang of buffalo before coming here?”

“It’s pork,” Rast corrected.

“Same difference—it’s all meat. Huh…well. Suppose I can keep it overnight. If Seamus doesn’t do anything with this by tomorrow evening, I’ll just put it on display this weekend. I don’t suppose he told you where he was going?”

“He’s a lot closer than you think,” Rast responded, stifling laughter.

_______________________________

Everything seemed so serene now. Just a few days ago, the city was in chaos as Seamus and his goons shot up an amusement park. But now, Rast was standing outside on a bright sunny day in the middle of the national park, watching as humans and anthros alike continued to play and talk to each other. The rat could see some of the people around him gazing at their cell phones, more than likely listening to more updates about the recent tragedy. But otherwise, it was a normal, peaceful Saturday afternoon. Rast opened his mouth as he bit down into a hot dog, chewing softly as the tall shark overshadowed him.

“So. Time to go on break,” Douglas said.

Rast exhaled and nodded. “Figured as much.”

“Just another month or two. All this shit should blow over by then.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

Douglas chuckled before he bit into his hot dog. “Then we’re _both_ fucked.” The shark gulped hard. “I’m not joking. You cannot—”

“Douglas, relax. I’m not as dumb as Seamus was.”

“No, but you’re not as smart as me either.”

_Just let it go_ , Rast told himself. _It’s a nice day…don’t ruin it with some petty argument._ Rast exhaled before he opened his mouth. And then he looked down at his hot dog and frowned, reminiscing on what he did just two days ago.

“Is this tasteless? I mean…given what happened and all.”

Douglas nodded and spoke with his mouth full. “Oh yeah, here.”

Rast observed the shark as he reached behind him on the hot dog cart and grabbed a bottle of mustard. He squeezed some onto Rast’s frankfurter, moments before the rat bit into his meal again. The rat nodded.

“Better?” Doug asked.

“Better.”


	14. Waiting is Hard

Drool wouldn’t stop running down his jaw as the rat smiled and looked at the jar in front of him. He took the cheese stick and promptly dipped it into the jar of peanut butter, licking his lips as he stirred the stick around in a circular motion. He removed a glob of the chunky peanut butter and stared at the cheese stick that had the semi-sweet substance sticking to the end of the cheese. And then he bit down and chewed noisily as he thumped his tail on the couch. Rast turned and looked at Lamson, while the gecko stared at the rodent with disgust. Rast swallowed.

“You want—”

“No,” Lamson responded, cutting off Rast.

Rast shrugged. “Eh. Guess I get more then.”

As Rast continued to dip cheese sticks in peanut butter, Lamson exhaled as he stretched himself out on the couch and put his feet up on the table. Cluttering ensued when the gecko kicked over an empty pizza box and a few soda cans, but Rast didn’t mind. His apartment was already a mess.

“When you gonna clean your house, bud?”

Rast shrugged again. “Y’know. Whenever.”

“I mean, I don’t got nothing against living in a messy home—you’ve seen all the dirty laundry in my dorm! But, uh…would be nice to come in here without worrying about a cockroach crawling up my shorts.”

Smiling, Rast turned and thumped his tail again. “They’re just being friendly! No reason—”

Rast yelped when he felt a sudden itching sensation on his right footpaw. He looked down and scowled when he noticed a bug just crawled on his footpaw and bit him. Snarling, he shook his footpaw slightly and stomped on the insect before it could skitter away. Then the rat wiped his footpaw against the floor before exhaling and grabbing another cheese stick. He devoured the stick after smothering it with peanut butter again before he looked at Lamson and noticed he was leaning against the armrest and resting his face against his knuckles. Rast kicked Lamson against his legs and snorted.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“You in that ‘phase’ again.”

“What phase?”

“Your ‘thinking’ phase, or whatever you call it.”

The gecko sat up straight before he exhaled and scratched at his neck. “Huh. It’s that obvious now?”

“It’s obvious that you have something on your mind…I’m assuming it’s about that ‘thing’ from last month?”

“No shit it’s about the Universal Gardens Massacre.” Lamson stammered. “I’m just…I dunno.”

Rast shoveled more cheese and peanut butter in his mouth. “I thought you said you didn’t care?”

“I _don’t_ care. But, see, that’s the problem. I _care_ that _I don’t_ care. That whole thing with Mitchum Cooley? Meh, another shootout in a crowded area. All those civilians who ‘disappeared’ on buses? Didn’t bug me at all. Hell, I still ride the bus whenever I can’t get you or one of my other friends to give me a ride around town! That terrorist attack a couple months back involving those two trains derailing? Eh, whatever, bruh. Maybe the reptiles did it, maybe some jihadis—I don’t care. Few days later, there was a big ole shootout between two gangs. Lotta civilians got caught in the crossfire. Okay, cool. That’s what happens in gang wars. Then after all that mess, some anthros storm into an amusement park fulla kids and parents and tourists on vacation and just shoot up the place. Buncha buildings got bombed, lotta cops died, lotta _kids_ died…there was, what? Like over four hundred and fifty casualties?”

“That sounds about right, yeah.”

“And I shit you not, my first reaction was just, ‘oh.’ I wasn’t screaming, I wasn’t crying, I wasn’t shouting, ‘AW MAH GAWD! ANOTHA TURRMURRIST DURR-ATTACK!’ I wasn’t doing any of that. One of the biggest tragedies to hit this city in the past _decade_ , and my only reaction is ‘oh.’ I mean…I know I’m desensitized to all this crap. But after this shit? I think I’ve reached a point where…where part of my brain is telling itself that I really _shouldn’t_ be apathetic to what’s going on.”

Rast finished all of his cheese sticks, but noticed he still had plenty of peanut butter left. So he grabbed the jar and stuck two fingers inside, swirling them around until he took out another glob. He sucked on his fingers noisily and swallowed, moments before he burped.

“Well, what can you do? Donation is bullshit. All these companies advertise that you need to give your support or whatnot. What they really should be saying is ‘give us money to help our company buy more supplies. Your money is helping _us_ , not the victims who actually deserve it.’ Do you start some anti-violence blog or whatever? Okay, sure, so some people get on the Internet and read some inspiring words. But they’re just _words_ , Lam. Words can’t do shit. We’re both in college right now. We’re not studying criminology; we’re not gonna grow old and become detectives. This shit just _is_ , Lam. Just deal with it or leave the city.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because this isn’t _that_ bad of a city! I like living here; I like my dorm; I like all my friends—dude, we even met here! I can’t just leave because things are starting to look grim all of a sudden!”

“Maybe you should. That massacre _really_ pissed people off. Lotta speculation that a race war—or I guess species war in this case—will happen.”

Lamson exhaled and rubbed his eyes. “Look, you know me, bruh. You know how I feel ‘bout the news and about society and its bullshit. But here’s the thing: if you see something that you love dying or in pain, and you know you can do _something_ to repair the damage, then you should repair it.”

“And just _how_ do you think Stercullo can be repaired, Lamson? Seriously, what can be done to fix this cesspool we call a city?”

“The way I see it, there’s clearly two options: get a new mayor, because we all know he’s corrupt as fuck. The police commissioner was murdered—that’s good, because he was corrupt too, so now we’re getting a new one. Start off from the top, work your way down. Don’t bother with the small-time drug dealers, don’t worry about people vandalizing—that’s not important. Get rid of all the poisonous big fish so they can’t give birth to anymore poisonous smaller fish. Once that’s all done, properly police the right districts with the right level of enforcement, fire the lawyers, the real estate agents, the popular chefs—get rid of anyone who does shady shit for the sake of money. Replace them all with people who actually give a damn about the integrity of this city, about preserving what’s left of Stercullo.”

Rast chuckled after sucking on his fingers again. “It’s a lot easier to fall down than it is to climb up.”

“Yeah, I know. This would take a long time to fix. But at least it’ll get fixed.”

“Hmm. And you think that everyone will just straight-up agree with your plans.”

Lamson let out a frustrated breath. “Either that, or, just let the city keep doing what it’s doing, and don’t do anything to fix what’s happening. Just remain oblivious until the whole city implodes. And if the mayor, the cops, and everyone else in charge of preserving this city does that, then they’re all admitting that this city exists for the sake of letting anarchists do what they want. And it’s a damn shame, because everyone goes around hating humans, going on and on about how we’re better than humans, that Tero will not end up the same way that Earth did. But, like, all the crap goin’ on—ain’t this exactly what led to Earth getting all…whatever happened to it?”

“S’far as I know, yeah.”

“So, I dunno bruh, may-maybe we should, y’know, _learn_ from their mistakes or sumthin’?”

Rast took a huge breath and rubbed his forehead. “We can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because, like humanity, anthros have to come to realize that there will always be evil, no matter where we are, where we go. What was that quote, uh, ‘bout how evil can succeed so long as good people stick their head in the sand?”

“Yeah, and that’s what I’ve been doin’, bruh! Just been…just been glaring at all these cartoons and movies and all this other shit those humans made back in the 80s and 90s, just goin’ about my way. I knew all this shit was happening, but after a while, I just said ‘meh’ and ignored it. But now…I think the Universal Gardens Massacre was my breaking point. And now I have to do something about it.”

_Why not just be evil? It’s a lot easier than trying to repair what can’t be fixed._

“…Whuh?”

_…No_ , Rast thought. _No. No. I said that out loud. Goddamn it._

“Um…nothing,” Rast said, before he got another glob of peanut butter with his fingers.

“N-no, no, you said…you asked, why not just be evil.”

_Fuck. Well…this is gonna lead to an awkward conversation. Well, more awkward._

“Well,” Rast cleared his throat. “Why not? It’s, uh…I mean, I-I’m sure that has crossed your mind. It sure as hell crossed mine; it’s crossed everyone’s minds. You see a candy bar you like. Do you buy it, or you steal it? You have diarrhea and you need to shit. Like-like _right now_. Do you race to the bathroom, hope you make it? Or do you just yank down your pants, shit all over the floor? Hell, do you just shit yourself entirely? You’re fat and you got diabetes. Do you…buy organic fruit, which is more expensive, or do you buy a box of cookies, which is cheaper?”

Rast licked his fingers a few times before he continued. “You see…you see a pretty female—or male in our cases—that you wanna have sex with. So…do you spend several months trying to win his or her affection? Do you get her or him drunk, and pray that he or she will take you to their home? Or…do you just pounce on ‘em in a dark alley and rape them?”

Rast shrugged. “Which one’s easier?”

“Which one is more _rewarding_? That’s the better question.”

“That’s a subjective question. Some people think that stealing a candy bar is the better option. Not only do you get what you want, but you save some money in the process.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that if you _know_ something is wrong, you shouldn’t do it.”

“The term ‘wrong’ is also subjective. We’re both homosexual. And in my case, I’m into fucking humans. People would look at us and say we’re ‘wrong’ for the gender we’re attracted to. People like us have been murdered simply because we’re ‘wrong,’ Lamson.”

“Okay, that’s different. What we’re doing isn’t harming anyone, physically or mentally. If you go out of your way to rape someone, torture someone, murder someone, that’s where I draw the line. Harming someone else’s life just to satisfy your own sick form of pleasure is fucked up and immoral.”

“Immoral is also subjective.”

Lamson huffed. “You keep saying that! Dude, I feel like you’re trolling me right now, bruh!”

Rast shrugged. “I’m not! Just bein’ honest. Some people…some people prefer to be evil because they think it’s more rewarding. Some people are evil because they wanna be, because it feels good.”

“What good can come out of robbing, raping, and murder?”

“What good can come out of playing video games, watching movies, or writing stories?”

“The big difference there? One of those choices does not involve harming _someone else_!”

Another shrug from Rast. “What if someone thinks it’s entertaining to harm other people? What if their form of joy comes from raping innocent people?”

Lamson stammered and threw his arms up in the air. “Th—NO! You can’t just say that all of a sudden you wanna hurt people!”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, you can’t!”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, you can’t!”

Rast blinked and glared at Lamson. “Yeah. You can.”

“THAT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE!”

Rast exhaled and sucked on his teeth. “It doesn’t make sense to _you_. And that’s _your_ problem. But this…the train derailment, the amusement park shooting—what if there was no reason behind any of it? What if someone said, ‘hey, I hate everyone. I hate everything. I’m gonna go shoot up an amusement park because that’s amusing to me’? I mean…it happens. There’s no reason. There’s no tragic victim with some mental disorder. They’re not doing it for money. They’re not doing it for fame. They’re not doing it because someone threatened them to. They’re doing it…because it’s something that they consider to be _fun_. They know it’s wrong. They know people will get killed. But they don’t care. They just wanna be entertained. And…and some people…some people don’t see the point in being ‘good.’ Some people see being ‘good’ as a curse. Lookit all these cops. They waste all these hours of work time, they risk their lives, lose their marriages, turn to alcoholism, all that shit—just to protect people like you and me. Some cops spend half their lives trying to bring down some criminal organization. You wanna know what happens a week later?”

Rast snapped his fingers. “There’s another criminal organization they gotta bring down. It’s an endless, boring, unrewarding cycle. I mean…when you look at it that way, can you _really_ blame people for being evil?”

Lamson sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead. “I get what you’re saying. Really, I do, bruh. But…all this shit you spoutin’? It all sounds like excuses to try and justify why people do bad things. Honestly, I’d rather have an asshole say that they do bad things just because they felt like, rather than hide behind some poor man’s excuse, like that they were molested as a child, or whatever.”

“Now you’re contradicting yourself. You say that there _has_ to be a reason for people to do bad things, but then if they provide a reason that’s not ‘good enough’ for you, it’s an excuse? Hell, if I wanted to…I could just reach over and choke your ass to death. Just, y’know, because you aggravated me with this conversation. But I’m not aggravated. And I’m obviously not gonna kill you.”

_And that’s only because I don’t feel like disposing of your body, nor do I feel like leaving evidence in my apartment. And I don’t feel like cleaning up your shit if your bowels loosen. …Please tell me I didn’t say that out loud._

“Maybe that’s…that’s the scariest part,” Lamson began.

_Oh, thank god._

“That…that the reason why people do evil crap is _because_ there’s no reason.”

“Exactly. I mean…that’s how it is. It’s horrifying, it makes no sense, and it’s revolting. But that’s the world we live in. We’re just two college students. Not much we can do about it.”

Rast relaxed in his couch as he dug his fingers into the jar and collected more peanut butter. He tried not to grin as Lamson exhaled and took his feet off the table, suddenly looking tired and upset. But that didn’t matter. As long as Lamson didn’t figure out his secret, Rast didn’t care how he felt.

_You got lucky, Lam_ , Rast thought. _You best be damn glad I’m holding a plastic jar, and not a kitchen knife._

_____________________________

The shark adjusted the cuffs on his light blue dress shirt before he exhaled and lowered his arms. As he stood in front of the desk, the mortician looked inside a booklet, skimming all the names and dates as he wore his reading glasses.

“S’a few have been claimed…hmm…knife fight…”

Douglas heard clanging upstairs and looked up at the ceiling, watching as bits of dust and dirt descended onto the floor. The shark looked down at the blue and white tiles, surprised at how clean it was compared to everything else in the building. Even the doctor in front of him had mustard stains on his white jacket.

“Seems like…we have fifteen bodies unclaimed.”

“Good. And how many of them are human beings?”

The mortician adjusted his glasses. “Nine.”

“Wonderful. Put ‘em all in bags. I’ll take ‘em.”

The mortician stammered. “Um, no, you won’t, sir. You cannot just ‘take’ these bodies—three of them still need an autopsy done. Not only that, but relatives may claim them, want a proper burial.”

Douglas scoffed. “These are all convicts who were murdered _in_ prison.”

“Actually, sir,” the mortician cleared his throat. “Three are listed as possible suicides. Two others allegedly had a drug overdose.”

The shark smiled. “All the more reason to give me the bodies! Look, I know how hard it is—”

“No, you do not, _sir_ ,” the mortician said, as if he was trying to hide his distaste for the shark. “You have not been in this prison for as long as I have. You have not seen a prisoner _eat himself_ to death. So do not try to sympathize with my current occupation.”

Douglas blinked. And then he looked down at his dress shirt, tie, and dress pants. “These clothes you’re looking at? I was not born in these, doctor. I did not steal these from a clothing store. I did not beg my parents to buy me these clothes. It took me a while to get what I’m wearing. I busted my tail getting these clothes. But I got ‘em.”

The shark sucked on his teeth and folded his arms. “Where’s _your_ suit?”

The mortician scowled and looked back down in his booklet. “If there is nothing else, you may leave now.”

Douglas didn’t give up. He had been down this road many times before. The shark turned and looked back at the stairs leading up into the main section of the prison facility. He flicked his eyes at the desk and saw a picture of the old man smiling and standing behind two children. Without pausing to think, Doug took out a packet of money and slammed it down on the desk. The mortician looked at the money, and then looked up at the tall shark again.

“You don’t have to tell anyone,” Douglas growled, his voice low. “No one will miss them. ‘Sides, they’re dead already.”

“Sir, you do not understand—”

“I understand that you’re old and miserable, probably dying. I understand that you have children—probably grandchildren—judging by that photo. This job doesn’t pay enough to cover your bills, let alone theirs. And with all the inflation, the amount of bodies piling up, the autopsy reports, printing all these files, notifying families, doing toxicology reports…”

Douglas stammered and shook his head, laughing. “It’s too much! Believe me; you are better off if a few bodies go missing here and there.”

“Sir…I-I can’t take your money.”

The shark nodded. “I get it…that photo is a reminder. Those children must be dead then. You keep that photo on your desk to…ah! They were murdered, weren’t they? And something tells me…someone in this very prison took their lives. Hehe, no wonder you’re still working here! You’re just waiting for that one, special day where the coroner comes along, brings a fat, hulking body bag, and then one day, your grandchildren’s killer’s face will be staring right back at you! I bet you wanna be the one to carve open the killer’s corpse during the autopsy, don’t you?”

“Leave. Now.”

Douglas snorted so hard he actually blew back some of the mortician’s white hair. The shark rubbed his jaw for a moment before he grinned and tapped on the desk.

“My associates and I are coming down here shortly to get those bodies.”

“I _just_ said—”

Douglas held up a hand, and the mortician closed his mouth. “I just told you what _I_ am doing. What _you_ do, I have no control over. As you can see, Option A is that you take this money. It is money that you earned—money that you _deserve_. Donate it to charity. Spend it on pornography. Throw it away. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that I am willingly giving you this…this gift. For all your hard work. And let’s face it: all the people in these body bags? They deserved it. No one will miss them—not even your superiors. And hey, less bodies means less time, manpower, and money to waste examining their corpses and giving them a proper burial.”

The shark exhaled and reached back to rub his giant dorsal fin. “Then there’s Option B.”

Doug didn’t say anything else. No wry chuckles, no sinister grins, no perverted or threatening gestures. He knew what was going to happen. It always happened. No matter how old, young, or intimidating people like this were, they always caved. Douglas could tell by the look in the man’s eyes what he was implying. The elderly mortician reached forward slowly and grabbed the small stack of money that was bound together with a currency strap. Douglas grinned widely as he nodded.

“See? Not so difficult, now was it?”

______________________________________

He still found it very odd whenever he saw these creatures up close. Strange-looking armor, those fuzzy, constantly-moving antennae, some had four arms instead of two—it was all off-putting for him. Then again, Douglas found himself feeling hypocritical; any human born a few hundred years ago wouldn’t think it was possible for a shark to stand on two legs, let alone wear business clothing. The shark turned around and stared at the large truck that was parked out in the outskirts of town, away from any form of civilization. Gravel and dirt was between his toes and underneath his feet, and the tallest building Doug saw within the past mile was a hangar sitting at the end of an airstrip that hadn’t been in use for months. The shark cleared his throat as Commander Maynard walked up to him, hissing and slurping as he sniffed the air with his antennae. The giant apid backed away from the shark and clacked his mandibles.

“Seamus Osgranov,” the giant apid hissed.

“He’s not—”

“I am aware that he is not here! We…had arrangements. Deals involving this shipment of meat. Every week for a year now, I’ve met with that insolent swine. Now, all of a sudden, for the past four shipments, I find myself speaking to you… _other_ creatures.”

Douglas grinned. “Do you seriously think Seamus was smart enough to collect all those human bodies by himself?”

“Mmpf. So…his partner. And the leader of this operation, not some crony. Tell me where Seamus is.”

“He’s dead.”

Commander Maynard didn’t even try to look surprised or upset. He just turned his head and blinked. “Suppose it’s for the best. That pig was rude and sloppy, and he smelled incredibly foul.”

Doug nodded. “I can assure you, you are better off with me handling these shipments instead of Seamus. As you’ll see here…”

Douglas turned and waved at the truck, instructing his mercenaries to open up the back door. He watched as a few human beings clad in body armor and carrying assault rifles opened up the refrigerated truck’s back door. Inside of it were several bodies clad in body bags, amongst a few metal crates that had chopped up body parts crammed inside. The shark stood by idly while Commander Maynard’s soldiers worked together to haul one of the crates off of the large truck. They all grunted as they set the crate down outside, and then Maynard walked over to the metal container and gestured for his apid soldiers to pry the metal crate open. Once the lid was off, the apid lowered his head and promptly stuck his tongue inside, slurping gently and tasting the blood. He shivered and backed away, wiping his mandibles.

“Urgh…this flesh is freezing!”

Douglas faced the apid and nodded. “That’s expected, given where I found the corpses.”

“When Seamus was giving me his meat, he cleaned and chopped up the bodies. Looks to me that half of your bodies are still intact!”

“I understand that, Commander. What you need to understand is that before Seamus died, he thought it would be best to leave a colossal mountain of pig shit on my doorstep. I’ve been breaking my back trying to clean it up without alerting the police on Tero. The reason why the bodies you’ve been getting are freezing or fully intact is because I’ve been ‘legally’ obtaining these bodies from various morgues. Seamus, on the other hand, was kidnapping innocent people, killing them, and chopping up their corpses. Now…I understand that the bodies are not as warm as you’d like, and I apologize. But my way is a lot less risky compared to Seamus’. My way will not arouse police suspicion. More importantly, because of how easy it is to acquire these bodies, that means I’m able to gather _more_ of them each week.”

Commander Maynard clacked his mandibles a few times before he turned around and looked at the truck full of bodies. Then he walked over to Douglas and spat to his right on the ground.

“It sounds to me like you’re making excuses! That being said, Seamus went about it in a much-more whiny manner. At least you’re admitting your faults…and I do believe your tale about Seamus giving you much strife. No wonder he ‘died’ a month ago.”

The red-armored apid looked inside the truck again and rubbed his head. “Hmm…since I’m in a good mood tonight, and because you seem to have some level of respect for me…this will do. For now…anyway. If I see complications in the future, then the threats I promised Seamus before will be carried out! This planet will burn to the ground!”

_You cannot burn a planet to the ground, you dumb shit_ , said Douglas inwardly.

“There will be no complications.”

Douglas looked at the apid’s face as it contorted into what he interpreted as some kind of smile. Maynard walked up to the shark and extended his right hand on his lower arm.

“Then I look forward to working with you…partner.”

Douglas looked at the apid’s extended hand and grinned. He reached forward and gave it a firm shake and chuckled. After the two shook hands, Commander Maynard shouted an order at his apid soldiers in a foreign language and started collecting bodies. Meanwhile, Douglas grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and called one of his contacts.

“Yeah?”

“You’re still watching them?”

“Yeah. Haven’t left the house. Husband still ain’t home.”

“What about the others?”

“Same. They’re just waiting for you to give the order.”

“Keep observing. Do not move unless I say so.”

“Mr. Kevro, we’ve been watching these guys for over a month. When—”

“Do _not_ move. I’ll let you know when to advance.”

Douglas hung up the phone before the man could reply. Then he exhaled and rubbed the fin on his nape. _Just relax, Doug. Everything’s all on track._

_So far…_


	15. The Fan

He went back to the arcade alone this time. There was no point in pretending to hang out with his friends—all of them were still reeling over the tragedy or studying for their upcoming finals and final projects. Lamson still hadn’t changed since their last discussion, and now the gecko was just irritating him. Time and time again he kept telling himself that he should go ahead and kill him already. But he was too close to Lamson; if the gecko disappeared after he was last seen with him, that would certainly raise a few eyebrows from police officers. None of this was helped with Carla’s recent pestering, where the rat had come to his apartment pretending to act friendly, where all she really wanted was some money. And as always, he gave his “kind and loving” sister the cash she needed, all while telling himself in his mind that murdering his own sister would get him sent to prison _immediately_. There was no point in fixating over such matters; his sister was unimportant, Lamson was unimportant, his college “friends” were all unimportant. All that mattered to Rast was murdering the cartoony villain who was holding the young woman hostage.

“GAME OVER!”

Rast snarled and slammed the toy gun against the arcade machine, observing the giant red letters that appeared on the screen. Gritting his teeth, Rast shouted as he kicked the machine. And for perhaps the very first time in his life, he regretted not wearing shoes. The rat whimpered and slowly crouched down, his right footpaw shaking as it began to throb in pain.

“…Fucker,” he whined.

After the rat assaulted the arcade machine, he turned around and grunted multiple times, limping his way to the exit as his toes throbbed. Once the rat was outside, he took a deep breath and felt the warm night air blowing against his fur. Rast leaned against the wall and winced as he lifted his right footpaw and massaged his toes for a moment, and then he set his footpaw down and exhaled as he started walking back over to his car. _Fuck Clara_ , Rast thought. _Fuck Lamson. Fuck college. Fuck my fucking job. Fuck…just relax, Rast. Relax…you’re tense and agitated ‘cause you haven’t made a video in over a month. You’ll be fine…just go back home and rub one out, then go to sleep. Then you get to wake up again for an eight-hour shift at your shitty job! Hooray._ The rat groaned as he approached his car and grasped his head. Everything seemed to be collapsing on top of him. He still had no idea how long he could keep this up before he gave in to his urges. He wasn’t sure—

“Hello.”

Rast gasped and turned around, startled by the human being with a cigar in his mouth. He backed up and grunted, his bottom brushing against the trunk of his car. After the rat calmed down, he stared at the human being and exhaled.

“H-hi…damn it, you startled me.”

“Oh,” the man said, before he removed the cigar and blew out a cloud of smoke. “Sorry ‘bout that. Thought a guy as big as myself would make more noise when he walked!”

_Just smile, Rast. People like it when you smile._

“Ah, it’s all right,” Rast said, waving a paw. “Wasn’t paying attention.”

The chubby man put the cigar into his mouth again. Before Rast could continue, he looked at the man’s features and sniffed. He had short, spiky blonde hair and a neat beard around his chin. He was wide and burly, with his gut extending forward and slightly showing. Rast looked at the man’s open green and blue flannel shirt and stared at the white T-shirt underneath. Then he looked down at the man’s ripped blue jeans and his large black shoes. The man blew out another cloud of smoke and growled.

“Thought you anthros hate shoes?”

Rast looked down at his bare footpaws and wiggled his toes. “Eh…kinda wish I had some now. Just kicked an arcade machine.”

“Hmm…that’s a shame.”

Something seemed off. Rast could’ve sworn he saw this man before not too long ago. He walked closer to the human being and wiggled his nose. His scent wasn’t threatening or offensive; he smelled like a common human being who had been working out in the sun, and his clothes smelled heavily of cigar smoke. The man took his cigar out and let out another breath.

“I’m Linkard Reid.”

“Um…Rast Racklyn.”

Linkard rubbed his nose before he leaned forward and smirked at the rat. “My friends said you got a fat ass but…hehe, wanted to find out in person.”

_Fucking Christ. This asshole must’ve seen that shitty video. Just…just “kindly” tell him to get lost. No need to make a scene._

“Sir…I don’t think you know—”

“I saw the video.”

Rast exhaled. “I know you saw the fuckin’ video. Thought it would’ve been taken down by now. That was uploaded by some stupid assholes who wanted to humiliate me.”

Linkard raised an eyebrow. “A dead squirrel uploaded a video of you torturing him to death?”

_FUCK. …Fuck. Okay…fuck—deny it. Deny it. He’s fucking with me; he’s wearing a wire. I bet he is._

“Why would I even _dream_ of doing something like that? Christ, go watch those _Saw_ films if you wanna see stuff like that.”

Linkard lifted his shirt. Rast looked at the man’s plump belly and saw nothing but his bright skin and bits of hair going down the center. He turned around slowly with his shirt still lifted and showed his bare back as well, shamelessly revealing his sagging bits of fat hanging over his jeans. Then Linkard turned back around and exhaled as he lowered his shirt. Paranoid, Rast looked around the parking lot. No one was paying attention. No one was spying on him, as far as he was concerned.

“Just relax, hon. I’m not wearing a wire. I’m not working for the police. I’m just…an admirer.”

_Fuck this. He’s playing me. How much does this asshole know?_

“Even if…I did do this awful crime you’re describing…how do you know _I_ did it? There are plenty of black rats in this city.”

“Well, you don’t exactly hide your face…”

_Fuck!_

“Again… _lot_ of black rats in the city.”

“Yes. Well. The, uh, that first video you uploaded? The one where you raped and tortured two humans to death? One of ‘em called you Rast.”

Linkard chuckled as he tapped ash off the end of his cigar. “I’m guessing you’re the only person in this city named Rast.”

_Fuck…fuck. He has me. How did…goddamn it, Rast. You fucking idiot. You should’ve wore a mask! You-you shouldn’t have revealed your name! You…relax. Just…just play along for now._

“Let’s…let’s say that-that I did these ‘things.’ Why do you wanna talk to me? Why not just blackmail me, turn me in to the cops?”

“Because I wanted to compliment your work. I’ve…I know people. I met some people when I was in prison. I know certain websites. And I like…entertaining myself with these websites, get me? So imagine my surprise when I talked to one guy, who knew another guy, who knew another guy, who knew you lived in this city. And by…by sheer chance, I looked up the name ‘Rast,’ found out where you lived, and followed you a few times.”

“Shit. You _were_ checking me out that night.”

“I was waiting for that gecko to leave. When I saw you walking away, figured it was best to wait. But here you are tonight, all by your lonesome!”

_Huh. Someone…my god, someone out there watches my videos enough to track me down. Jesus…I actually have fans. People actually enjoy my work!_

“You…y-you like…you like my videos!”

“I _love_ your videos. So many times I see those snuff videos, but they’re all so cheesy or staged or poorly-shot. Lotta times, it’s usually female victims anyway—not a fan of that, at all. But you? You choose all males, and you don’t care if they’re human or anthros.”

Feeling exposed and embarrassed, Rast rubbed his forehead and giggled. “U-um, let’s-let’s talk more about this in private…at my apartment.”

Linkard put the cigar in his mouth and talked with his mouth full. “Uh-huh, sure. ‘Talk.’”

“I’m serious! Look at where we are; we can’t talk about this shit in public. Come to my apartment. It’s a lot quieter there so we—”

“You wanna fuck me.”

Rast rolled his eyes and exhaled. “All I did was suggest you come to my apartment. At no point did I say fucking would be involved.”

_________________________________

Sex was involved. Neither of them bothered to wait. The second they got inside Rast’s apartment, the rat showed Linkard around his disheveled home for a moment. But once the human saw the bedroom, it didn’t take long before Linkard started groping Rast. And it didn’t take long before the rat started to undress. Now the lanky anthro was lying on his mattress, squealing and whimpering, his tail curled backwards as Linkard sodomized him. He still wasn’t used to the pain, and still felt the same amount of soreness he experienced when Tomas and Dante had sex with him. Rast moaned noisily as he shut his eyes, grasping his bedsheets as tightly as he could. Even for Linkard’s size, he was slow and gentle, even going as far as stopping whenever he assumed Rast was in pain. But then the human resumed, and Rast kept moaning as he felt his shaft extending and leaking pre-ejaculate onto the mattress. Maybe Rast was too excited. Maybe he held it in for too long. But the rodent came much sooner than Linkard did, squealing with satisfaction as he released his semen onto his bed.

When Linkard finished as well, he slowly removed himself from Rast’s rump. The rat shuddered and collapsed onto his side, writhing around in ecstasy as he breathed in the musky, humid air now filling up his bedroom. He unintentionally ended up pushing out most of Linkard’s semen, grunting as he released the sticky fluids from his posterior, along with air pushed into his bowels. The human giggled as he listened to the faint bubbling noises, while Rast merely exhaled and let his bowels release the substance. As he finished, Rast lied still on his side, exhaling harshly and occasionally groping his groin. The burly man leaned over and lied behind Rast, rubbing his back and playfully slapping his buttocks a few times. Seconds later, Linkard growled deeply, sounding like a full grown bear as he reached over and rubbed Rast’s chest.

“So…about not having sex?”

The rat snorted and elbowed the man in his big gut. Linkard chuckled before he kissed Rast on the back of his neck. Afterwards, the two of them lied still for a moment, relaxing and catching their breath, still basking in each other’s odors. As Rast lied still, he started shaking for a moment, unable to understand the emotions he was going through. He reached up and rubbed his nose for a bit, until he realized that his eyes were watering. _Wait…wait a second_ , Rast thought. _Fuck me…am…am I crying?_

“Hey,” Linkard said softly.

_Shit. God, please tell me he can’t hear me._

“Hey, Rast. You okay?”

The rat sniffled and rubbed his left eye. “Yeah, I’m…hehe, you were too rough, Lin! Guess I’m…um…”

Linkard sat up on the mattress and rubbed the rodent’s head. “It’s okay, hon. You can talk to me.”

“That’s…” Rast exhaled as he sat up as well. More tears were running down his face. “That’s the problem, Lin,” he said, his voice breaking. “I don’t…I don’t know you. I only saw you once before. And-and here you are, in my bed, and just a few minutes ago, your dick was in my ass.”

Linkard grinned. “It’s called a one-night stand, I believe?”

Rast sniffled again. “That’s not the point. You know me. I-I mean, you _actually_ know me, and you don’t hate me. Only two other people know about the things I do in my spare time. One of ‘em’s dead. The other one think’s I’m this lowly, disgusting egotist and he wants nothing to do with me. The only reason why we do business together is because I make him money. So…so for you to just show up…and-and not…”

Linkard paused for a moment, and then nodded. “Oh…you think this is a dream.”

Rast wiped his face again. “It’s not even that! I feel…where’s the axe? When’s it gonna fall? I know it’s there; it’s _always_ there. It’s been dangling above my head all the fuckin’ time. And it always falls when I _don’t_ expect it. Ever since I started making these videos, something has gone wrong. My flash drives were stolen, I got my ass beat by a shark, and I was involved in a shootout and nearly died _twice_. So now here I am, once again, happy as a fuckin’ clam. But now…now I know. I just _know_ something is gonna come along and ruin this for me!”

The human rubbed his scruffy chin. “You know what the word ‘karma’ means?”

Rast snarled. “Fuck you. You-you don’t get the right to judge me! No one fucking gets the right to judge me! All my life—all my fucking life—I’ve done nothing but follow the rules! I’ve done nothing but be good to people! I’ve done nothing but been selfless! And I got nothing to show for it! My parents forced me in-into following these-these abhorrent rules and these fucking ‘procedures’ and ‘regulations’ that society expects from us! Can’t piss in the sink, can’t grab another man’s ass in public, can’t eat junk food, gotta eat veggies, gotta drink milk, gotta brush my teeth, gotta—”

“Rast,” Linkard said firmly. “None of that matters.”

“Yes! Yes, it does, Lin! I-I-I—for once in my fucking life…I decide to do something ‘different’! Those assholes, my two first victims? They humiliated me. They filmed me having sex with them while they wore masks! And then they uploaded the video online, and sent it to everyone’s e-mails at my college campus! So I…I didn’t bother talking to them. Didn’t reason with them; didn’t try to beat them up. Uh-uh…nah. You asked me if I know what karma is? Your damn right I do!”

Rast stopped talking for a moment and laughed, before he grinned widely. “I drugged ‘em. And then I took ‘em to a warehouse. And then…well, you saw the video; you know what I did. They humiliated me. So I humiliated them right back! Filmed ‘em getting raped by a disgusting anthro like myself! And then I found someone who could upload the video on the dark web. So now everyone will see their shame, and they’re gonna go down as two little bitches who got taken from behind by me!”

Linkard sniffed and scratched his head. “Okay, so you got your revenge. Explain the dozen other videos you made.”

“That’s just it, Lin. I was…I had fun torturing those two cocksuckers. I was _happy_. For the first time in I don’t know how long…I was _genuinely_ happy. I wasn’t forcing myself to laugh at my coworkers’ shitty jokes. I wasn’t forcing myself to smile as my sister reminisced on our so-called childhood memories—none of which I care for. I wasn’t listening to the only anthro I hang out with explain why he hates the news while saying ‘bruh’ at the end of every damn sentence.”

The rat took a long, deep breath and nodded, feeling a bit better now. “What’s so wrong with what I’m doing? Hmm? This-this is something I have a passion for. I have fun raping and murdering people. You have fun watching me rape said people. There are so many other disturbing or disgusting people out there. But it’s-it’s all the same thing, right?! We’re all just entertaining ourselves! Everyone needs a form of escapism! Video games, painting, watching movies, making movies, reading books…how is any of that different from fucking dead bodies, inflating your belly with air, or-or eating shit, or shitting yourself on purpose, or wearing diapers even when you’re a grown-ass man? How is it different?!”

Linkard exhaled and shrugged. “Simple. Everything you just said? It’s not illegal.”

There was a pause as Linkard frowned and looked up diagonally, as if he was lost in his train of thought. “Okay, no, wait, I don’t think necrophilia is legal. But we won’t get into that. See, Rast…everything you just said? That’s all good. That’s fine. I perfectly understand. That does not mean I’m gonna sit here and say you’re doing a good thing, or that what you’re doing is right. You’re hurting people, killing people. You’re taking away their lives for _your_ personal gain. All these people you killed? They had dreams, they had families, friends, hobbies, jobs, all that. Some of them willingly, and happily, contributed to society, to try and make it better.”

Linkard pointed at Rast’s muzzle. “ _You_ took that away. No one forced you to do it. And you’re only reason for doing so is ‘it makes me happy.’ Which…again, that’s fine. Y’know, you wanna stick a hose up your ass and inflate your gut with air? You do that. You wanna kidnap people and rape ‘em? Hey, more power to ya! But what you and people like you need to understand, Rast, is that you’re doing terrible things for selfish reasons. Nothing you say or do will ever justify that.”

Rast exhaled and rubbed his muzzle. He felt his spine tingling again, and for a brief moment, his left paw turned into a fist, and the rat considered killing Linkard right then and there.

“And that’s perfectly fine.”

Rast’s eyes widened and he settled down. “Wait a second…what’d you say?”

“I said it’s fine that you’re a raping murderer.”

“Um. …I-I missed something. Why the flip-flop?”

Linkard shrugged. “I’m not flip-flopping. I rarely ever change my opinions on people. Just tell it like it is.”

“And what ‘is’?”

Linkard adjusted himself on the mattress, not caring that his hairy legs were brushing against the puddles of semen. “It’s like, I’m one of those guys who believes in yin and yang, that kind of crap. Light can’t survive without dark, and vice versa, and it’s all one big circle split evenly. But that’s not how it really works. The light? That’s a tiny fraction of the circle. Same thing with the dark. But smack dab in the center,” Lin said, vertically moving his right hand up and down, “is a fat-ass blotch of gray. That’s where everyone starts when they’re born.”

The human being cleared his throat. “All right, so when you age, you either stay in the gray, or you shift over to the light side or the dark side. Some people are fine staying in the gray. Some people shift over to the light. Some shift to the dark. You get where this is going?”

Rast took a soft breath before he chuckled and nodded. “I…see, that’s the thing. Even if Dante and Tomas hadn’t humiliated me, I would’ve reached this point regardless. Hell, it almost happened in high school; I nearly smashed someone’s skull in during gym because he pantsed me. I was holding a really, _really_ big dumbbell at the time…was tempted to just bash his head in. But I didn’t.”

“And that’s what I’m getting at. From what you’ve told me, you’re on the dark side. But your problem is that, when you were a teenager, you realized that the light side corrupted you. Y’know, they saw how dark you were becoming, so they got some paintbrushes and painted your fur white. Li’l dab here, li’l dab there. So when you became an adult, you told yourself that you were on the light side. But it was all fake. It was all this…this disgusting façade that you thought was the real you. When those two humans made that sex tape? You threw up your paws and said, ‘fuck this. No more. I’m done being on the light side.’ So you scrubbed off all your paint, and _immediately_ threw yourself into the darkness.”

Rast leaned back on his mattress and relaxed against his pillow. “Huh. S’pose that makes sense.”

Linkard nodded. “See, everyone thinks that people who are evil were manipulated, that some demon possessed them, that Satan told them to do wrong—that’s all a sack of crap. Right or wrong, people do what they do because they _choose_ to—and sometimes people choose to do wrong on purpose, because it makes them feel happy. But what people need to understand is that we _need_ people like you, Rast. People like me even. Hell, I got thrown in jail because I broke into my ex-boyfriend’s house and killed his whole family. Wasn’t sorry. Didn’t apologize. But damn, did it feel good choking that asshole to death with my bare hands.”

Linkard exhaled and rubbed his forehead. “It’s all a necessary evil, if you will. Without darkness, there would only be light, and the universe would implode, and everything would cease to exist.”

“…Holy shit. So…so you’re saying, what I’m doing is wrong, but it’s right that I’m doing wrong.”

“Basically.”

Rast exhaled as he rubbed his face. “Well, then why do I feel like something is about to go wrong? Why’s it feel like the universe is against me?”

“Because it is. The light side is trying to drag you out of the darkness. You just gotta keep giving the other side the middle finger until it leaves you alone.”

“…Huh.”

Both creatures relaxed in bed for a moment, still basking in the humid, musky air that had filled Rast’s bedroom. The rat opened his mouth and picked at his teeth before he stroked his whiskers and sat back up. Linkard, meanwhile, smiled as he turned and rubbed Rast’s scalp. The rat smiled softly and thumped his tail on the bed a few times, all while the human chuckled.

“This was an odd conversation to have after sex,” Rast stated.

“No shit.”


	16. Becoming Famous

“Anytime now.”

Rast flicked his eyes at the store employee and snorted. _Fuck off_ , the rat thought. _I can take as much time as I want._ Rast exhaled as he stood in front of the display case and looked at the various different kinds of video games he wanted. Some were typical military shooters, some were platformers with funny-looking animals on them, and others looked like adequate video games that tricked the buyer into thinking it was actually an epic space adventure. Having fallen for said trick more than once, Rast grumbled as he pointed at the platformer that had a quirky-looking donkey wearing a pair of overalls on the cover. The rat paid for the game and accepted the change the cashier handed back to him before he exhaled and began to walk away from the counter. He started to walk around the huge retail store, passing by different aisles selling all sorts of diverse assortments. One aisle sold non-perishables, another sold bicycles, skateboards, and other fitness-related equipment, and in the center of the store were several different brands of clothing that were only slightly better than the clothes he’d find inside of a dollar store. Rast grunted when he felt his cell phone buzzing inside his pocket and stopped walking to answer it. And then he shouted when some kid ran into him, causing him to drop his phone.

“Oop! Sorry, sorry, mister!”

_Just pretend like you don’t give a shit and let him leave_ , Rast told himself. The rat bent over and exhaled as he picked up his phone. “Eh. It’s fine. Phone still works.”

“Hehe, that’s not the only thing working, Faggy Ratty!”

Something in Rast’s mind snapped. His usual self-awareness and his ability to force himself to say what the world wanted cracked. He slowly turned around and looked at the young boy and his older, taller brother who was smirking at him.

“ _What_ did you call me?”

“Heh…friend of mine showed me this nasty video about some rat taking it up the ass by two humans! You know, you look a _lot_ like him!”

The older brother grunted when his younger brother nudged him in his ribs. “Be quiet! You know Mom and Dad don’t…don’t like it when we use those words.”

“Eh, they ain’t here right now, are they, Joseph?”

Rast looked at the two human beings. And then he grinned widely when he looked at Joseph’s older brother.

“Good…that’s good for you, um…what is your name?”

“What’s _your_ name, rat?”

Rast shook his head. “Don’t matter. What does matter…is that you speak your mind. Don’t hide behind your parents’ rules. Don’t hide behind all the rules and regulations that this world has created for you. Speak up. Say what’s bottled up inside. You’ll feel better once you let it out.”

Joseph’s brother scoffed. “Trust me, dude. I do that shit all the time. Thanks for the advice, rat. Now fuck off. Let’s go, Joseph.”

Rast watched as the two human beings walked past him. The rat quickly jerked himself around and latched his paw onto the older brother’s left shoulder.

“Now see…you being a rude asshole, that’s what _you_ are deep down. But me?” Rast chuckled as the humans turned to face him. “Me? I’d…I’d be dragging your ass into the bathroom right now. With your little brother. And then I’d lock the door for a while…”

_Fuck it. He ain’t gonna tell anyone shit. I wanna see one of these assholes shit themselves._

“…What?” Joseph asked softly.

Joseph’s brother scoffed. “He’s just playin’ around, Joe. Acting all tough a shit. Lookit how scrawny he is! He can’t take me! And he certainly—”

“Do either of you know what it’s like to be raped?”

_Hehe, yeah…now you shut your mouths._

“See, the victim…he or she always tries to fight off the rapist. He or she always thinks they can get away. But it never happens. So when the rapist is violating his or her prey, the prey just…stops. They just give up. And from that point on, you _know_ that they will never be the same again.”

Rast looked down at Joseph, who was whimpering and hiding behind his brother.

“Joey! Don’t be frightened! Why, I’m merely just explaining what _would_ happen if either of you were sexually violated!”

The rat licked his rotting teeth and grinned widely. “Would be a real shame, wouldn’t it?”

Joseph’s brother shoved Rast backwards and swore at him, moments before he grabbed Joseph’s hand and hurriedly walked him towards the nearest employee they could find. Rast frowned and swore to himself, moments before he ducked into one of the aisles and quickly made his way to the exit. Once the rat was outside, he exhaled as he felt the sun’s rays beaming down on him and smelled the exhaust coming from all the vehicles slowly driving down the road as the drivers found a place to park. Rast shook his head, glad that he dodged a bullet, before he walked to his car and tossed the video game inside. Once he got inside his vehicle, he pulled out his cell phone and pretended to text some of his contacts. Every now and again, he’d look up out the window, checking to see when Joseph and his brother would leave the store. After five minutes, both of them came out—with a security guard escorting them. The rat smirked as he observed the two humans walking down the shopping center, shortly before meeting up with their parents. There was no way to tell what they were talking about, but he wouldn’t be surprised if they mentioned the disturbing “incident” in the store.

Rast waited patiently for the four humans to get into their silver SUV that was parked several yards down the road. After they started their vehicle and began to pull out, Rast did the same. The rat gripped his steering wheel a bit tightly before he chuckled to himself and licked his teeth again.

“Yes…would be a _damn_ shame if someone raped either of you,” the rat growled.

Rast had no reason to be doing this. None of these people were important, and he was still trying to stay under the radar. And yet, he kept following them for several miles, making sure that he wasn’t directly behind the SUV in case either of the kids in the backseats turned around. Rast drove for almost half an hour before the family pulled into a subdivision that was in a neighborhood located on the edge of Stercullo. He slowed down as he continued following the family, looking around at the lush trees, the luxurious cars parked in everyone’s driveways, and even an ice cream truck that was being crowded by a handful of children. The silver SUV traveled down a brief incline before taking a left. Rast stopped his car once he saw the SUV take a right and pull into a driveway. He stayed in the car and studied his surroundings, checking to see if there was any kind of sign displaying the logo of a security systems company. He saw a few lawns that had them—some depicted a logo of a shield with a lightning bolt, while others just had the company’s name in fancy, bold lettering. But the family that owned the SUV had no such sign.

_Forget them_ , Rast told himself. _Forget it. Local neighborhood? Neighborhood watch? Someone can easily see you and call the cops. Someone could easily get you arrested. Hell, this family might own a shotgun or some other firearm. Is this re…hmm. No, no, that punk just made some comment about you, Rast. There’s no point in risking everything just to…no. Wait. No. I’ve done this many times before already. And I’m not letting that asshole think he’s better than me just because…hmph. Fuck it._ Rast dug into his pocket and took out his cell phone. Then he dialed someone’s number and put his phone up to his ear.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Lin! How you been doin’?”

Linkard chuckled on the other end. “I’m a little surprised that you’re calling so soon, to be honest. You uh…did you wanna go on a date or something? Or did you wanna just fuck again, maybe in my much cleaner bedroom this time around?”

Rast chuckled. “Funny. No, um…well, actually, yeah! Yeah, I would like to go on a date tonight!”

“Oh? Well…um, sure! I wouldn’t mind that. Guess it could take your mind off your ‘hobby’ and whatnot. Did you wanna see some movie—”

“No, Lin. This-this is definitely hobby-related.”

Rast heard a faint pause over the phone, as if he assumed that the human being was a bit disappointed. “Oh. Hehe, you wanted me to see you in action, is that it?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s what I want. It’ll be _much_ better for you than just watching a pre-recorded video online.”

“Eh, sure! I’m not doing anything tonight, and it’s admittedly been a while since the last time I’ve done this.”

“Good…I’m glad to hear that! I got a question though.”

“What is it?”

Rast paused. “You know how to pick a lock?”

_______________________

It was well past one in the morning when the two of the appeared in the subdivision again. Linkard agreed to drive Rast over to the house, mainly because he had more than one truck and it would be easier to dispose of his vehicle if the cops found out about it. Rast explaining his plan all throughout his drive towards the neighborhood, fully instructing Linkard on how to subdue everyone inside of the building. Linkard had no quarrels with Rast’s dastardly plans, and was more than happy to participate.

“Should be simple then,” Linkard said. “Same shit is what got me thrown in jail.”

“Good. Then this is nothing new for you.”

“Err, it kinda-sorta is. My ex-boyfriend’s home was a trailer in butt-fuck nowhere. This is some classy two-story house in a large subdivision. …Do you even know what weapons or defenses this family has inside? Or how many people live here?”

“No. And I’m assuming four.”

Linkard snarled as he shook his head. “That might complicate things.”

Rast smirked as he walked alongside the human down the road and grasped the firearm in his pocket. “I’ll handle it.”

Both creatures were dressed in all black, but neither of them was wearing ski masks since they knew that would be a dead giveaway to what they were up to. No one was walking outside so late at night, but the two of them did come across a neighborhood patrol car that was cruising around the subdivision shining a flashlight outside the window. Rast sniffled and rubbed his nose as he listened to the insects chirping or buzzing all around him. He watched where he was stepping, making sure he didn’t cut his footpaws on any broken or rusty objects someone dropped on the ground. Rast stuck his paws into the pockets of his black jeans while Linkard slowly moved his hands around in his hoody.

“You said you’re sure you can get inside?”

“Yeah. Lotta these locks got shitty cylinders the keys go in. Shouldn’t take me long to pick at it.”

Rast exhaled and nodded. “Good.”

The two of them approached the house and paused for a moment. As Linkard dug into his pockets and pulled out a few small lock-picking instruments, Rast squinted as he looked at the window covered by a set of blinds.

“Damn…think there’s a light coming from inside. Someone might be up watching TV.”

Linkard huffed. “Shit. Then maybe—”

“Car!”

Rast immediately rushed for the shrubs in front of the house and immediately crouched down behind them. Linkard did the same, and both creatures breathed softly as they listened to the vehicle moving down the road and gradually disappearing from their field of vision. Rast stood up and exhaled, while Linkard grumbled and took out his screwdriver and a bump key.

“Fuck this. Forget picking the lock; I got a better idea.”

Moments later, Linkard crouched down in front of the door and inserted a bump key into the lock, squinting as he made sure he pushed the key inside as far as he needed to. Seconds later, the human took out a screwdriver and tapped it against the lock a few times before he twisted it. Nothing happened. He tapped the key again, and was met with the same result. Rast frowned as he looked at the man attempting to get through the lock.

“This isn’t exactly quiet,” Rast said bluntly.

Linkard exhaled. “No, but it’s faster. I know what I’m doing; gimme a moment.”

Rast exhaled and folded his arms as Linkard repeatedly tapped on the key with the back of the screwdriver. It took the man nearly six attempts before he was finally able to get through the lock and successfully turned the key. Rast grinned as he shoved Linkard aside, took out his silenced pistol, and twisted the knob.

“What the fuck?”

Rast’s eyes widened. Instinct took over, and Rast immediately stormed into the living room, where he spotted an elderly man lying on the big couch watching TV. The old man started opening his mouth, but Rast, panicked, shot him three times in the abdomen and once in the face to ensure he wouldn’t alarm anyone else. The panting rat waved Linkard to come inside, and the burly man rushed in and locked the door softly. Pointing and moving his paws, he gestured for Linkard to head into the kitchen to look for supplies. The chubby man nodded, all while Rast quietly made his way up the stairs, walking in a crouched stance. He moved up the stairs slowly and turned to his left once he got on the second floor. The rat opened up three different doors, one leading to a bathroom, one to a closet full of towels, and one leading over into the parents’ bedroom. Rast smirked as he looked inside the bedroom before he gently closed the door. Instead, he slowly walked over to the fourth door upstairs, and inside revealed two human brothers who were sleeping in separate beds. Rast headed into the bedroom and made sure he stepped around the video games lying on the floor, and he avoided kicking his footpaw against one of the kids’ backpacks.

Rast walked over to Joseph’s bed and saw the child sleeping quietly, breathing in and out as he rested beneath the covers. The black rat licked his teeth before he held his gun with one paw and reached out with the other one. Rast shoved his paw down against Joseph’s face, and he mumbled and jerked around in his bed. Then Joseph’s eyes shot open, and the child let out a muffled scream.

“Hello, Joey,” Rast whispered.

The child started thrashing his legs about, up until Rast pointed his gun at the child’s forehead, causing him to pause.

“Be quiet, child. Just need a few minutes.”

As Rast started to drag Joseph out of bed, Linkard came up the stairs carrying some rope and duct tape.

“You got the kids?”

“Yeah. Go take care of the parents. They’re in the other bedroom down the hall.”

Linkard nodded and walked over to the parents’ bedroom. As Linkard subdued the adults, the rat growled softly as he rubbed Joseph’s scalp, his dirty paw moving through his red hair. In the distance, Rast heard muffled grunting and screaming, followed by someone shouting as multiple bodies fell onto the floor. The rat listened to the struggle, but he didn’t help the human. Even Rast knew that someone as bulky as Linkard could take care of a couple suburban parents. Rast looked at Joseph’s older brother and chuckled.

“Heavy sleeper, is he? Good…good. Makes this so much easier.”

After another minute, Linkard returned, bleeding from his forehead and sweating. He dragged Joseph’s mother into the bedroom by her hair and dropped her, moments before dragging his father inside too. Both of them had duct tape covering their mouths, their faces were bloody, and their feet and wrists were bound with rope. Joseph looked at his bleeding parents and let out a whimper. Rast chuckled and pointed his gun at Joseph’s brother, aiming for his leg. Suddenly, Rast felt a sharp constriction in his paw, like something was pressing down into the palm of his paw. He let go of Joseph’s mouth, and the boy shouted.

“MAX!”

Rast snarled as he looked at the teeth marks on his paw. And then shouted when Joseph elbowed him in his abdomen.

“MAX, GET—”

Joseph fell to the floor with a hard thump after Linkard punched him in his jaw. The boy whined while Max sluggishly grumbled and sat up.

“What? The fuck—”

Rast shot the teenager in his leg, causing him to howl in pain and fall out of bed. The brothers’ parents were shouting and moaning in muffled voices as they struggled to save their children. Linkard, however, was watching everything unfold nonchalantly. As Max lied on the floor bleeding and sobbing, Joseph panted and scooted backwards, holding up his hands as tears ran down his face.

“Please! T-take it! Take all my stuff! Just don’t hurt—”

“No, little Joseph. We are _far_ past the apologies now.”

Rast shoved Joseph backwards so hard that he banged his head against the corner of his bookcase. As he fell to the floor, Rast stomped over to the wounded Max as he lied on the floor grunting and moaning, his eyes watery. Their parents were still attempting to get up, but whenever they managed to lift their heads or nearly got on their knees, Linkard would bash them in the skull with a hammer he found in the kitchen. After much abuse, both adults were hardly moving and bleeding profusely from their scalps. Rast snickered as he shoved Max against Joseph’s bed and planted his head against the covers.

“Turn on the camera, Lin. S’got night vision so you can see better.”

The rodent waited for Linkard to get the camera turned on. Once Rast saw the red light flash on, he growled softly and ran his paw around Max’s head.

“Now isn’t this delightful? Got a whole family with me here tonight! Hehe, say hi to the camera, Max.”

Rast slowly turned Max’s head over so he was facing the camera. While Rast nonchalantly waved to the handheld device, Max whimpered as tears ran down his face.

“I-I’m…I’m sorry…I’m sorry—”

“No, you’re not. You are not sorry you called me a faggot. And I am not sorry that I’m about to murder your whole family! Y’see, _that’s_ how remorse works. If you truly were sorry, you wouldn’t have fuckin’ done it in the first place.”

Max stammered and blubbered. “You can’t…y-you-you can’t do this! Please! I’m—”

“No. Your fate was determined the second you said those words to me. You’ve no one to blame but yourself, Maxy-boy!”

As Max kept whining and sobbing, Rast reached for his waist and slowly unzipped his pants, moments before he unbuttoned them.

“You should be happy, Max. You’re gonna see and feel what it’s like to be a faggot!”

Rast was about to pull Max’s pants down when Joseph whimpered. He turned and faced him, watching as the young boy sat near the bookcase, curled up in a ball and bleeding from his head, unable to help his family.

“Please…you don’t have to do this…”

Rast faced the young child and grinned. “Don’t fret, young Joey,” the rat said as he grabbed Max.

“You’ll get your turn too.”

___________________________________

He couldn’t sleep. He knew this wasn’t the best solution, but at the same time, he needed to get away from his business for a moment. The shark, for once, wasn’t even in his typical work clothes or dress suits, and instead was sitting down on the stool only wearing a pair of dark blue sweat pants and a gray tank-top that showed off his muscles and burly figure, with his slightly large gut bulging against the waistband of his trousers. The shark snorted as he scratched around his gills, scraping off some dirt and crumbs, before he exhaled and placed his hands on the bar. Only three other people were in the bar: the bartender, some golden retriever who had passed out beside his glass, and a human being who was experimenting with the different kinds of cocktails he could make. The bar itself was only one story, had the typical wooden floors, typical wooden bar and stools. The lighting was minimal, some cracks were in the walls, and there was a jukebox near the front of the door. Douglas looked around the bar and smelled the air, the place reeking of bodily fluids and smoke. The shark looked down at his glass of whiskey before he grabbed it and swallowed the rest of the fluids, wiping his mouth afterwards.

“You want another?”

Douglas looked at the bartender, a young woman with ratty blond hair wearing cheap makeup and a black blouse. The shark nodded before pointing at a bottle on the wall.

“Scotch. Yeah, yeah, that one.”

The shark observed the woman grab the bottle and uncork it. Then she walked over to him and poured a substantial amount of the amber fluids into his glass. Doug nodded at her before he drank from the glass and exhaled. Some seconds later, the front door opened, and Doug turned to look at the human being also not clad in his work clothes. Instead, he was wearing a pair of jeans, red tennis shoes, and a yellow shirt that had the AC/DC band logo on the front of it. The man walked to the left of Douglas and sat down on a stool, and then ordered a regular beer.

“Hey,” Doug said.

“Hey,” said the human.

Douglas stayed still, shortly before he listened to the man open his can of beer and take a long sip. Douglas did the same with his glass and wiped his mouth again. He turned and faced the man, and then exhaled.

“This never gets less awkward, does it, Morris?”

Detective Glendale chuckled. “It’s always awkward bein’ around you.”

“Mm. Suppose there’s some truth to that.”

Douglas exhaled as he rubbed his snout and drank from the glass again. He licked his choppers before sucking on his teeth.

“So. When you gonna catch me?”

Morris grinned. “Well, you’re already slipping.”

Douglas turned and looked at the detective’s can of beer. “So are you.”

“Eh. It’s only one can. No harm in that, right?”

“Sure. _Now_ you say that. But in another few years…”

The shark stopped talking when he finished drinking the rest of his scotch. He set the glass down and slid it forward, shortly before digging into his pocket and paying for his drink. Morris just grunted as he wiped his mouth.

“My job is just as tiring as your occupation,” Morris said. “Eventually, one of us is gonna crack.”

“And that person will be you, Detective.”

Morris chuckled. “Overconfidence. You should be careful with that, Doug.”

“I’m not being overconfident. I’m just stating facts. I mean…how much money you make? How much all you cops make?”

“Eh. It helps if you live alone.”

“Is it worth it though?”

Douglas turned and looked at Morris. “I mean…truthfully. Is it worth doing the shit that you do? Look at me. Look at how long I’ve been in this business, and I still haven’t been caught. You cops waste all your time chasing after, um, ‘scumbags’ like me, and you got nothing to show for it. Maybe some medal. Maybe some promotion. But that’s it. And regardless of what you say, what you think, what you do, I’m not going to be your ‘arch enemy’ or whatever. Because as soon as I’m gone? Another person like me will take my place. And then you’ll be stuck doing the same damn thing you’re doing right now, but with another criminal. It’s…it’s a machine, Detective. And you are just a small cog within this machine. Now, sure, perhaps by some miracle, maybe you’ll be able to stop the machine. But only temporarily. And once it starts back up again?”

Douglas started twirling his index fingers around in a circular motion. “There you are, spinning and spinning, unable to stop the cycle. No matter how hard you try, no matter how optimistic you are…by the end of the day, it’s people like _me_ who control this machine.”

The shark grinned widely as he leaned over and got in the detective’s face. “You know what I’m saying is true.”

The human being exhaled and drank from his can again. “Yes. Everything you said is true. But let me go back to your first question. You wanna know why I really do this?”

“Absolutely.”

Morris pointed at Doug’s grin and smirked. “To get rid of that. I see all you smug-ass criminals all the time, thinking you’re on top of the world. Thinking you can do what you want, that you’re special, that you’re smart. But then I come and I just wipe that stupid grin off your faces. Just…”

Morris opened up his right hand and moved it through the air slowly. “Just like an eraser. And sure, I know someone’s gonna come along and write more stuff on the chalkboard. But that’s okay. Because I’m always gonna be there to wipe it all off again.”

The detective finished his beer and set his can down before nodding. “So yeah. You bet your ass it’s worth it.”

Douglas didn’t respond immediately. He slowly turned away from the detective and sat in silence, listening to the cars passing by the bar outside, along with the squeaking noise of the ceiling fan as it slowly spun around inside the building. He tapped his fingers on the bar a few times before he exhaled and looked at the clock. It was past two in the morning, and he still had so much work to do. The shark grunted as he slid off his stool and stood up, dusting his tank-top. And then he turned away from the detective and headed for the exit.

“See you later, Detective.”

“Maybe next time we meet you’ll be in handcuffs.”

Douglas smirked again. “Maybe next time we’ll meet, you’ll be lying in a ditch.”

The shark shoved the door open and walked outside. He knew it wasn’t one of his better insults, but he was stating the truth. Sooner, not later, he’d have to take care of the detective before his whole organization fell apart.

______________________

Rast breathed heavily as he wiped the sweat and blood from his face. Linkard was doing the same and sitting down on Max’s former bed. The rat smiled widely as he looked at all the corpses in front of him, all four members of the family having been shot in the head. He made sure he left Joseph and Max’s trousers pulled down, just so whoever found the bodies would know exactly what happened to them before they were murdered. Neither Rast nor Linkard raped the mother; they just forced her to watch, while Linkard was the one who killed the father after raping him. And now the two killers were catching their breath inside of the bedroom, still basking in their ecstasy as the room radiated with their musk and bodily odors.

“Fuck…forgot how good that felt,” Linkard said, breathless.

Rast chuckled as he rubbed Linkard’s head. “Y’see? Isn’t it so much better than just ‘casual’ sex? That-that feeling of just _knowing_ that you will always be in power?”

Linkard chuckled as he shook his head. “No wonder everyone gets butt-fucked in prison. Can’t blame ‘em honestly.”

The rodent inhaled as he stood up from the mattress and carefully avoided stepping in the pools of blood that had formed on the floor. He took out his handgun as he rubbed his chin and looked at the camera Linkard left on the bookcase.

“This is wonderful…a new spin on my films! No more crummy warehouses; no more of me doing the same ol’ shit. Think it’s time to branch out…time to film on location, instead of bringing all my ‘actors’ to the same crappy building. Whatcha think?”

Linkard nodded. “Bold move, I say. Everyone gets tired of the same shit over and over. I think filming in a house, in a restaurant, the bathroom—hell, even outside in broad daylight! These are all new ideas that keep you from getting stale.”

Rast grinned. “Glad you think that.”

The rat lifted his handgun and shot Linkard in his abdomen. He could tell that Linkard wasn’t sure what happened at first. He coughed twice, and then looked down at his stomach in bewilderment. When he looked back up at the rat, he whimpered softly and started to hyperventilate.

“…Rast?”

“I am glad that I met you, Lin. Really, I am. Because of you…now I know. Now I know that I’m doing the right thing. Now I know that I’m _supposed_ to be doing all this horrific shit. And the best about this? I have fans!”

Linkard groaned as he coughed up blood and had trouble breathing properly. “You…but you…I thought—”

“We’d be partners in crime? That we’d be lovers? That we’d ‘bond’ with each other? …Thing is, Lin? If you were such a die-hard fan of my videos, then who’s to say there aren’t others? Who’s to say I won’t run into another person just like you, who will have sex with me and help me run around town making these videos for me? That’s the key word there, Lin. These are _my_ videos. Not yours. And now that you’ve finished helping me, what else are you other than refuse?”

Linkard gritted his teeth, but before he could do anything else, Rast shot him in the forehead. Moments later, the rat put the handgun in the back of his pants and exhaled.

“Oh, that’s right. You’re a scapegoat! Ex-convict breaks into a house and rapes and murders a family of five. And it seems like he ended up getting killed for his troubles. How awful.”

Snickering uncontrollably, Rast grabbed his camera and walked outside of the bedroom, still making sure he didn’t step in any puddles of blood. Once he was down on the bottom floor, he exited the house and disappeared into the night.

_____________________________

Everything was already hectic as it was. He was still dealing from the fallout of Seamus’ rampage, he was still trying to preserve the contacts he had left, he was having all his money moved, he was having his men collect and deliver bodies to Commander Maynard, and Detective Glendale was still alive. So when Rast came into his shoe store and gleefully showed the video where he raped and murdered a suburban family in their house, Douglas Kevro wanted to eviscerate Rast with his bare claws.

“Why?”

The smelly rat in his green hoody and jeans snorted. “The older brother, guy named Max? Asshole insulted me in a store. Made a reference to the ‘Faggy Ratty’ video that was posted online. So I followed him and his family. Got a friend of mine—Linkard Reid—to help me break in. Then I decided to just…film on location for a change.”

Doug slammed his fist down on his table inside his hidden office. He snarled, spittle flying from his mouth.

“Why are you _this_ stupid?! I had you murder Seamus for the exact same reason as this level of mindlessness! You should fucking know better!”

“I do know better. S’why I did it.”

“What?!”

Rast chuckled. “Doug, what is life if not the possible risk of something going wrong? Where’s the reward if there’s no risk? Sure, I could’ve been caught. Sure, this could blow up in my face. But that’s what made it so thrilling! Breaking and entering, terrorizing this posh family, making those parents watch as I raped both of their children!”

“YOU—” Douglas started forming a fist. And then he lowered his hand and exhaled as he folded his arms together. He looked at the flash drive sticking out of his computer and sniffed.

“Unbelievable. This is just fucking unbelievable.”

“Not really. I mean, I did have Linkard—”

“No, you fucking idiot! You didn’t just kidnap someone! You broke into their house! In the middle of a crowded neighborhood where there are dozens of potential witnesses! What if a car drove by and the driver saw you?! What if some night owl was spying on everyone’s houses?! What if some neighborhood watch spotted you?!”

“But they didn’t.”

“What if they did?!”

“They didn’t.”

Douglas huffed. “Okay, okay, fine. Let’s say they didn’t. Did you dispose of the bodies? Did you clean up after you finished?”

“No.”

“Wonderful. So not only did you do this in someone’s home, but you left the bodies! It’s been a whole day since you killed them; I’m pretty sure someone notified the police about them going missing. IF—no, no, _when_ the cops find those bodies, they’re gonna realize there was a second intruder! So what if you killed Linkard? There’s rat ejaculate in those kids’ anuses! And I’m sure there’s rat fur all around the floor of that house! How long you think it’ll take until they narrow it down to you?”

“That’s why you’re here to help me.”

“I can’t do that! This is why I told you to wait! The reason why you’re not already in prison is because anytime your name came up in _any_ investigation, I told the police commissioner—who was on my payroll—to get rid of any evidence linking you to anything. Now that Seamus went and fucking killed him, half the cops in this city aren’t on my side anymore! I’ve been spending time trying to find a new commissioner to help me handle all this shit before someone else like Glendale comes along and fucks everything up! You leaving five bodies in a residential home does nothing to help us at all! They’re gonna find you and arrest you, Rast!”

Douglas panted heavily as he looked at the black rat. Somehow, much to the shark’s surprise, the rat just shrugged.

“Eh.”

“‘Eh’? That-that’s it? That’s all? You don’t fucking care if they catch you?”

“No, I do, but…at this point? I think I’d be okay with that.”

“HOW?!”

Rast exhaled and scratched the back of his neck. “Y’know, there’s really not much difference between being famous or infamous. Everyone knows who you are. You get lots of attention. Lots of media coverage. Lots of fans. Lots of people who defend you, even if you’ve done something horrible. Hell…maybe even money. If the police catch me…I go down as a prolific serial rapist and serial killer. I mean, I’m even a mass murderer to some extent. I helped you gun down all those people on that train. I helped Seamus gun down all those people in Brinbark County when you tried to kill us. Right now? I’m just some rat in college. Got a job. Got a car. Got an apartment.”

The rat shrugged. “Boring. But…if the cops catch me? Then I go down as one of this city’s most creative killers. Kidnapping and torture? _And_ I got it all on film? And one of my victims was some white-bred family living in the suburbs? Heh…my god. When I walk into prison, it’ll be like all the convicts are meeting a real-life celebrity!”

“Are you…are you listening to yourself? Did—you got a tape recorder? Do you honestly want me to replay the words you just said to me just so you can understand how much of a narcissist you are?”

Rolling his eyes, Rast snorted. “You say what you want. You’re still gonna post this video online. Because you’re just like Seamus. Call me all the names you want. You and I, we’re both greedy pigs, just like Seamus was. The only difference between me and you is that what _you_ want is shit. You want something that holds no value. Who gives a shit about money? Now…if people know who you are? If they know about the shit you’ve done in your life? Your name lives on forever. People will write books about you. People will make movies and documentaries on your life. But you? Hmph, that money won’t do shit for you once you’re gone. You can’t bury it with you; you can’t spend it in Hell; you can’t buy your life back. It’s all just paper, something that can be burned and forgotten about. Just like you, Douglas.”

Douglas’ left eye twitched. He started breathing heavily, his gills flaring and opening. The shark huffed and snorted furiously before he walked up to Rast and pointed a finger in his face.

“You listen to me, you little shit—”

The shark stammered when Rast quickly grabbed him. Before Douglas could wiggle his way out of the grasp, something sharp pricked his scales. He winced as he backed away from the rat, panting and gasping as he looked at Rast. The rat was holding a syringe and grinning.

“Fuck…you son—”

“Relax,” Rast said, shooting fluids from the needle. “It’s just water.”

Douglas calmed down once he witnessed Rast shoot the seemingly harmless fluids into his mouth. Afterwards, Rast placed the syringe into his hoody’s pocket again and licked his teeth as he walked up to Douglas.

“Post that video, Douglas. That would be wise. If there’s one thing I learned from all this…it’s that I’ll always have someone who supports what I do. The thing about this world is that everything can be replaced, substituted. If one brand of soda is out of stock, buy another brand. Sure, it may take a while to get used to it, but it’ll be worth it in the end. Now, I know you hate me, and that’s just fine. But both of us are in this together, and I can assure you, I’m much more valuable as an asset, not an enemy. So post the fucking video. If you don’t, fine. I’ll just come back here, and this syringe won’t be full of water.”

Douglas actually broke out into a fit of laughter. “Are y…are _you_ seriously threatening me, _pup_?”

“S’a funny thing about you sharks. You act all big and bad and tough, yet people have no problem turning your kind into sushi.”

There was a pause as the two individuals stared at each other. Only this time around, Rast had a smug, shark-like smile on his face, while Douglas was leaning against his desk panting and looking like he was about to explode. Maintaining his serene demeanor, Rast subtly nodded, and then turned around and walked away.

“Have a good night, Doug,” Rast said softly.

Douglas stood still as Rast walked outside of his office. Frustrated, he grasped his face and rubbed up and down his snout, groaning and feeling everything crumbling around him. He sighed with defeat, took out his cell phone, and looked at all the messages on his phone. Doug swore softly before he brought up his list of contacts and called one of his assets.

“Yeah.”

“It’s Kevro.” Douglas scratched his dorsal fin and exhaled. “You’re a go. Don’t contact me again until you and the others got it all situated.”

“Understood.”

Douglas hung up his phone and shook his head. “Can’t believe it’s come to this…”

_______________________________

Douglas walked around the sidewalk with his cell phone held up to his right earhole. It was early in the morning, just barely past five o’clock, and still dark outside. He stopped in front of the large, guarded building as he wrapped up the conversation he was having with another associate.

“Mr. Kevro, are you sure about this? You certain this will work?”

“To be honest,” Kevro responded. “I’ve no fucking idea. This could very easily backfire, but I’m out of options.”

“All right, sir. Just…don’t mention certain things. You-you know what I mean.”

“Absolutely. You’ve nothing to worry about,” the shark lied.

Douglas hung up his cell phone before his associate could respond. He took a long, deep breath, and then walked up a set of concrete stairs leading into a fortified building. Once Douglas stepped inside, he was greeted to the sound of clamoring and various police officers who were walking around inside of a huge station. Some criminals and other guests were roaming around the building, but it was nothing out of the ordinary, as far as Doug could tell. He saw one man talking to the receptionist behind the desk, some chubby officer who looked bored of his occupation. After the man left the building in a huff, Douglas approached the desk next.

“What can I help you with, sir?”

Douglas put his hands down on the desk and grinned. “Yeah, hi. My name’s Douglas Kevro. I’m the leader of several criminal organizations, and I’m turning myself in. Get TPO agents Kinhart, Rysley, and Ervo down here. Immediately.”

The desk officer just looked at the shark and rubbed his nose. “Um…sir? You can’t just—even if that’s all true, you can’t just request for TPO agents to come to Stercullo. They could be on the other side of the planet.”

“Get ‘em down here. Now.”

“That’s not going to happen. It could take hours.”

Douglas groaned and rolled his eyes. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a gun, brandishing it. People started screaming, and the desk officer hopped from his seat and pulled out his gun.

“GUN! GUN!”

“DROP IT! DROP THE WEAPON NOW!”

Douglas nonchalantly tossed the pistol on the floor and sighed as he put his hands behind his head. Three officers all ran over to the shark and swiftly put handcuffs on him.

“Remember: Kinhart, Rysley, Ervo. Get ‘em all down here now. Tell ‘em they’re gonna wanna hear what Douglas Kevro has to say!”

The shark chuckled as the officers roughly escorted him to the interrogation room.


	17. C'est la Vie

He was out again that morning. He had been so caught up with everything else that he forgot to stock up on his snacks again. So Rast hopped inside his car and drove to the nearest convenience store he could find. The rat parked at a gas station not far from his apartment, figuring he may as well kill two birds with one stone. As soon as the rat finished filling up his car with gas, he sighed as he fished through his pockets and pulled out a few dollar bills and some change. He squinted as he looked at the coins, double-checking to make sure he had quarters instead of nickels. Then he walked inside the store and exhaled, noticing all the snacks, refrigerated drinks, and packs of cigarettes packed out within the store. Rast walked up to the cashier and snapped his fingers to divert his attention away from the magazine he was reading.

“Hey. You guys got jars of peanut butter?”

“Hmm? Oh, uh, we have those small on-the-go packs.”

“But do you have the jars?”

The cashier shook his head. “Sorry. We don’t carry the jars here.”

_Course you fuckers don’t carry it. Now I gotta…fuck it. Remember, Rast, thank him. People like being thanked._

“Okay, thanks anyway.”

Rast turned around and headed into one of the aisles, passing by various chips and candy bars, before he snatched one of the on-the-go packs of peanut butter that only pups would use for putting on crackers before he walked over to the refrigerated section and looked inside. He saw all sorts of unhealthy sports drinks, some forms of beer, and even a package of “fresh” sushi that was lined against the wall. Rast shifted over and continued to look at all the food inside, only to frown when he saw no cheese sticks. _Of course_ , Rast thought. _They don’t have anything I want. Fucking…screw it. I’ll just get the cheese and crackers._ Rast huffed as he grabbed a package of cheese and crackers from the shelf before he walked over to the cashier. Another person entered the store and started to look for snacks as well. The rodent ignored the man and slammed his snacks down in front of the cashier.

“Find everything you were looking for, sir?”

_No, you fucking cunt. Now I gotta drive to another damn store to get my cheese sticks._

“Oh yeah, no problem,” the rat lied.

Rast waited as the cashier scanned his items and put his snacks inside of a bag.

“All right, that’ll be two dollars and ninety cents.”

Rast dug into his pocket and placed three crumpled up dollar bills on the counter. After the cashier took the money, Rast sniffed and rubbed his nose. _Smile, Rast. Everybody loves it when you—_

_________________________________

The robber raised his handgun and shot the rat in the back of his head. The cashier screamed when blood and brain fragments splattered all over his face, nearly blinding him. The robber watched as the young man shook and started to hold up his hands. The robber didn’t care. He shot him in the neck and watched as he gurgled on his blood and slid down to the floor. Just to make sure both creatures were dead, the robber shot the cashier in the forehead, shortly before he shot the rat in the head a second time. Sighing, the robber put his gun into his pocket, reached over the counter, and scrambled to snatch all of the money out of the cash register. Afterwards, he bent down and fished around Rast’s pockets so he could take out his wallet. But once the robber looked inside, he found nothing but credit cards he couldn’t use and a broken claw. Scoffing, the man tossed the wallet on the floor, stood up, and ran outside the store before anyone tried to stop him. 

He got what he came for, and now it was time to leave.

_______________________________

Douglas Kevro wiggled his toes as he looked down at the floor. He rubbed some dried scales off his ironed navy blue dress pants before he cleared his throat and smoothed out his white dress shirt. The shark looked up in the corner of the room and spotted the camera that was aimed down at him, looking like an uncanny eye. He just smiled at the camera before turning around and looking at the barren metal wall behind him. Douglas placed his hands on the table as he listened to the rhythmic ticking of the clock going on and on. The shark exhaled as he continued to sit around in the interrogation room, growing restless. He knew the other officers and agents were observing him through the “mirror,” watching him to see when or if he would crack beneath all this “pressure” he was feeling. But despite everything that was going on, the shark seemed very calm with himself.

“So…you guys ready for this or not? Been waiting for hours.”

As always, the shark received no answer. He just looked up at the clock and exhaled, folding his arms. It wasn’t until three more minutes later before two agents in different suits walked into the room. One of them was carrying a microphone and recorder while the other one was holding a packet of various papers and a pen. Douglas smiled as he looked at the green-scaled iguana stuffed inside of a black suit with a black tie, while the agent standing next to him was a human being with short black hair, dressed in a normal gray suit and blue dress shirt.

“Agent Kinhart and Rysley! Good to see you again!”

The reptile smiled widely as he looked at Douglas and wagged his tail. “Well. Surprised to see you sitting in this room…let alone asking what you’re asking.”

The other agent flicked her eyes at the reptile before setting the papers and pen down on the table. “I’m assuming Ervo went over the deal with you a half-hour ago?”

Doug nodded. “Yes, Agent Kinhart. I know how this goes. I explain all the heinous deeds I did, and in exchange, I get full immunity.”

The agent looked at Douglas and raised her eyebrow. “Aren’t you gonna read the contracts?”

The shark reached forward and exhaled as he picked up the pen, twirling it around his fingers. “I know what it says. Don’t worry. Go ahead and start recording.”

Douglas grinned as he looked at Kinhart and Rysley’s bewildered expressions. Agent Kinhart sat down in her chair while the iguana cleared his throat as he moved his hand around the button attached to the recorder. He pressed down, and Douglas heard a faint beep.

“State your full name,” the iguana said.

“Douglas Sentiino Kevro.”

“Also present are Tero Police Organization agents Ashley Kinhart, Broneg Rysley, and Kyle Ervo. Date is May 29th, 2298. Mr. Kevro has come here on his own free will and has agreed to full immunity in exchange for confessing to his past crimes. If you agree to this statement, please say yes.”

“Yes,” Douglas stated.

“Good,” the iguana said, before he sat down. “You can start now.”

Douglas exhaled as he leaned forward in his chair and started to rub his chin. He thought for a moment, listening to the clock ticking in the background. He squinted a few times, and the agents both turned and looked at each other, confused again. Then, after much contemplation, Douglas sighed heavily and rubbed his hands together.”

“About seven weeks ago…I, um…I posted a message on the dark web, stating that I would give someone one billion dollars if they…if they went to Universal Gardens, and destroyed the amusement park.”

Douglas looked at the agents’ faces and struggled not to grin. Kinhart stammered. “You-you were the one behind that attack?”

“Not exactly. See, after I posted that message, multiple people responded. But I ignored all of them…everyone but Seamus Osgranov, one of my former associates. I figured that the pig would see my message. I figured he would immediately agree to my terms. I provided him with uniforms that they were able to use to pose as park security. Everything else, the shooting, the bombings, that was all on Osgranov, not me. Heh…I honestly didn’t think that pig would be _that_ stupid, but he was.”

“Son of a bitch,” Rysley murmured.

Kinhart held her tongue. She closed her eyes and rubbed her hands together, struggling to bottle up all of her rage and profanity. After a brief moment, she swallowed and opened her eyes.

“Where is this person, this Seamus Osgranov?”

Douglas felt his cell phone buzzing. He paused for a moment and looked down at his phone so he could look at a text message someone sent him. After looking at the message, Douglas smirked and exhaled.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Anyway, Mr. Osgranov? He’s dead. Another one of my associates, Rast Racklyn, found him, drugged him, and tortured him to death. He later chopped up his body into chunks, and delivered it to Osgranov’s own butchery company. You won’t find his body—not unless you feel like sifting through fecal matter in the sewers.”

Rysley gritted his teeth before he shook his head and snorted. “Giving us the names of people who are already dead will not help you, Mr. Kevro.”

Douglas ignored him. “I’m not sure if Osgranov was on your radar, but he was responsible for kidnapping all of those humans from metro buses for the past year. Every week, Osgranov and his employees would masquerade as bus drivers from all sorts of cities across the country, drive out of town, and then fill the bus with knockout gas. He and his employees would then gather the unconscious bodies and chop them all into pieces, so he could sell their organs and flesh on the black market. Osgranov, being the incompetent pig he was, constantly asked me for help. I have records and files documenting how much flesh he collected each week. As for his organ harvesting ring? That has also been dismantled. Seems that Osgranov gunned down all of his employees and burned down his primary warehouse where he conducted his activities.”

Douglas spread his hands apart. “So, no need for any of you to worry about his operation. That’s all over and done with.”

Kinhart exhaled. “That does not fill us with comfort. You mentioned another person—Rast Racklyn.”

The shark cleared his throat. “Yes, of course! Rast found me through the dark web in my store. Apparently he made some snuff film and wanted to sell it online for money. I did, of course, even though I’m not the biggest fan of those films. So a month goes by, and during said month, I posted roughly twelve, give or take thirteen different videos online. I did not, however, order Rast to rape and kill _any_ of these people depicted in the videos. He committed those crimes completely on his own volition. Anyways, Rast kept all his recordings on flash drives hidden in his apartment. Seamus found out about this and sent some of his thugs to rob him. So Rast came to me for help, and we met with some raccoon on a passenger train, the BR97. Turns out that Seamus’ goons were on the train, and they intended on killing us after I gave them the money they were extorting from Rast. Rast and I, we fought off Seamus’ men, but we couldn’t have any witnesses, so we had to murder everyone else on the train.”

Kinhart huffed. “My god, the-the derail…”

Douglas nodded. “After we killed everyone, I noticed that the CV20 freight train was traveling on the same tracks as the BR97. So I put the train in reverse, made both trains collide with each other. The police and news thought it was a terrorist attack, but I was behind it. Anyway…about a week later, Rast and I decided to kill Seamus. So I had Rast lead Osgranov into a trap I set where my men were supposed to gun them all down, make it look like a gang hit. They got away, unfortunately, and we ultimately decided to lay low for a while. That is, until the Universal Gardens Massacre happened.”

The shark paused so he could scratch around his gills. “I ordered Rast to murder Osgranov afterwards. He hated the pig as much as I did, especially since during the attack, some of my associates, like the late police commissioner, were killed. Admittedly, the thought of some of my business partners getting killed during the Universal Gardens Massacre never crossed my mind when I sent that message to Seamus. Eh. Collateral damage.”

Rysley snorted. “Sounds like this Rast person is heavily involved in your crimes. Where is he?”

“Dead.”

Rysley slammed his pen on the table and leaned back in the chair. “Goddamn it.”

“Rast was not some mercenary, or some convict or some ex-soldier. He was just some egotistical pup in college who craved attention. So much so that two nights ago, he and Linkard Reid—an ex-convict—broke into someone’s house, and raped and murdered a family of five. All of which Rast recorded, without bothering to hide his face. Now normally, this wouldn’t bother me at all. But Rast did not dispose of _any_ bodies. He left the corpses of a young child and a teenager lying on the floor, their rectums full of his semen. And I’m sure there’s rat fur all over the floor too; I’m sure your forensics team can verify that with ease. Rast killed Reid shortly after they finished. Guess he thought you cops would suspect he was the rapist, and then someone came along and abruptly killed him too.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. We very easily would’ve figured out that there was a second suspect,” Kinhart pointed out.

Douglas scoffed. “Which is what I told him! But Rast and his precious ego…hmph. He wanted to get caught. Wanted to satisfy his narcissism, and he ended up negating his pragmatism in the process. Stupid pup even stuck me with a needle, threatened to drug and kill me the same way he killed all of his victims.” Douglas sighed as he shook his head and snorted. “He was too much of a liability. So I had him killed. He was shot at a gas station this morning, not too long ago actually. Clerk got it too. Made it look like a simple mugging gone wrong.”

Rysley huffed and ran his hand against his back, brushing his scaly hand against his spines. “Well. Sounds like you’ve been busy. Unfortunately, we can’t help you. All the information you gave us just implicates _you_. Your two coconspirators have been killed—both on your orders, I might add. So I’m not sure—”

Douglas leaned back in his chair and let out a deep, growling laugh, showing all of his teeth. As he leaned, he moved his legs and placed his giant feet on the table before he reached behind and placed his hands on the back of his head.

“Did you seriously think I was done? Everything I’ve told you was just a list of the crimes I’ve committed these past four months.”

The shark grinned widely as he looked at the agents. “I’m just getting started.”

_____________________________

Douglas drank the rest of the coffee from the foam cup that the TPO agents offered to him. He set the cup down and swallowed, while Kinhart and Rysley—no longer wearing their suit jackets and had their sleeves rolled up—were busy rubbing their eyes and waiting for the shark to finish with his confessions.

“So,” Douglas cleared his throat. “I went ahead and changed my mind. You can have Lenchyn Tumley. He called me before I entered the station, wanted to make sure I wouldn’t give up his name. But given how close he is in the Tero Committee, I figured you would want to expose his corruption too. There’s quite a few shady individuals within the Committee, and I’m sure that Tumley will be more than happy to give them all up if you make him your informant.”

Kinhart sighed as she wiped some sweat from her forehead. “Is there _any_ thing else?”

Douglas picked up the pen left on the desk and twirled it around in his fingers a few times. He shook his head.

“No. I believe that’s it.”

Rysley slammed his hands down on the desk and huffed. “Fucking finally. Here’s how this is gonna go down: we need to find, apprehend, or kill _every single person_ you’ve implicated in your confession. If a single person slips through our grasp, or we do not catch them in the span of the next few weeks, everything in these documents will be voided. Do you understand?”

Douglas nodded. “Absolutely.”

The shark chuckled as he clicked the pen twice. “There is one last bit of information I need to mention.”

The iguana nodded. “Go ahead.”

“I’m currently involved in a deal with Commander Maynard. He’s a prominent figure of the Apis Empire, and he comes down to Tero each week to collect meat from me, human flesh in particular. Like I said, I was assisting Osgranov with this before his death, but now that he _is_ dead, I’ve decided to take over his human harvesting business. Before you protest, let me calm your nerves by saying that I am using bodies from people who are already deceased. Y’know, collecting bodies from various morgues and funeral homes. This way, Commander Maynard gets what he wants, no humans have to suffer, and I still get paid. I do strongly implore you that you allow me to continue collecting flesh for the commander, as he has threatened all of Tero if his demands are not met.”

Rysley exhaled. “Okay then. I believe we’re done here.”

The iguana pressed the button on the recorder and stopped taping the conversation. As soon as he stopped, Douglas grinned.

“Now then, I suggest you help us take out this colonel from across the ocean. We can have a plane—”

“I’m not doing a fucking thing for you people,” the shark growled.

Kinhart smirked herself as she pointed down to the various sheets of paper. “Then you violate your deal. And we will immediately throw you into prison for the rest of your life. Given the sheer amount of enemies you’ve made over the years, I doubt you’d last long.”

“Hmm. Yes. I suppose you have me. But nothing is in writing, so…where’s the confirmation?”

The shark watched and held in his laughter as both of the TPO agents flipped through the packet of the immunity deal. Both of them snorted and exhaled as they examined the papers and noticed that Douglas didn’t sign his name on any of them.

“I don’t understand. You agreed—”

“What I agreed to, Agent Rysley, was that I would come here and confess to my crimes for immunity. And I have done that.”

“So sign the papers,” the iguana snarled.

Douglas shook his head. “Nah. What’s immunity in your terms? Being secluded to a house in the middle of nowhere, while a bunch of agents monitor where I shop for food, where I buy my clothes? Is immunity working for you agents in a giant skyscraper, writing endless documents day in and day out, and spending the rest of my life filing papers in cabinets while I wear an uncomfortable suit? Hmph, I don’t think so.”

Kinhart rubbed her head. “Then what do you want?”

“Simple. I’m gonna get up from this chair, walk out of this room, and leave this building. Then I’m gonna go home and take a nap, since I’ve been up for over twenty-four hours now.”

Rysley shook his head. “Sign the contract. That’s the best deal you’re getting.”

Douglas raised his left eyebrow. “Did you already forget about the recording in front of you? Have the list of names magically disappeared from your minds? I gave you one hundred and fifty names. _One hundred and fifty._ Drug dealers, gun dealers, human traffickers, anthro traffickers, human _and_ anthro traffickers, corrupt politicians and government officials, dirty cops, loan sharks—I can go on. Two of the names I gave you have been on the TPO’s Most Wanted List for over a decade. One’s a terrorist, and the other’s a hitman who specializes in kidnapping and torturing TPO agents to death. How many victims has he claimed, Agent Kinhart?”

“Thirty-seven.”

“Thirty-seven! Wow! Now, wouldn’t your employers be thrilled to know that you apprehended him, or even sent him to an early grave? I sure as hell know I would. And it would all be thanks to me _willingly_ giving him up to you!”

Kinhart chuckled. “Mr. Kevro, you’ve implicated yourself in so many murders and so much crime that you’re currently facing the death penalty. The only way you will avoid jail time is if you sign these papers.”

Douglas exhaled and placed his hands on the table. “Agent Kinhart. Agent Rysley. I need you two to think _very carefully_ about your decisions. It’s…it’s simple. I’m a shark, agents—literally and metaphorically—and this world we live in is a giant ocean. The problem is that there are other sharks around me that are hassling me, trying to invade my territory, trying to kill me. You two are flounder, minnows, tilapia—little, tiny, baby fish. A shark is coming to you itty-bitty fish and telling you, ‘hey, I know how to kill all these other sharks.’ Don’t you get it? A bunch of minnows are about to take down _several_ sharks, and it’s all because one shark willingly came to you and offered his assistance! You should be happy!”

Kinhart shook her head and laughed. “No, Mr. Kevro. I know _exactly_ what you’re doing. You’re a shark, yes. And you’re helping us, yes. But you don’t really want us tiny fish to kill other sharks. And you’re not doing this out the kindness of your heart. What you’re _really_ saying is, ‘hey, I know I ate a lot of your friends, and I’m sorry, but not really! In order to show you small fish how sorry I am, I’m gonna tell you how to kill these other sharks—who are also a thorn in my side—so I don’t have to worry about facing the wrath from you small fish in the future! But as soon as you small fish take care of these other sharks, I’m gonna go back to eating you all up! And if any of you complain about it, I’ll kindly remind you all how helpful I was in the past.’ _That’s_ what you’re telling us, Mr. Kevro.”

Douglas grinned. “See? You understand then!”

Rysley huffed as he lowered his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Just sign these papers, Mr. Kevro. This really isn’t hard.”

“Did you two also seemingly forget about my deal with Commander Maynard? I’m the only one who engages in these deals with him. And if I don’t get that human flesh for him, he has promised to send his entire armada of Apis soldiers to burn Tero to the ground.”

Kinhart scrunched up her face. “You can’t burn a planet to the ground.”

Douglas groaned. “THANK YOU!” After groaning, the shark shook his head and rubbed his snout. “All that aside, the commander said that he’ll come to Tero and destroy the planet. And we all know that that’s the last thing we want. All my business is conducted on Tero, and I’ve no intention to start everything over on some backwater planet.”

Rysley sucked on his teeth. “Nah. Sounds to me that you’re bluffing. This whole situation is too ludicrously complex for you to have planned all this out.”

“See, that’s the funny thing. I didn’t plan for _any_ of this. I planned to have multiple plans in case my initial plans failed. My initial plans failed, so now I’m here.”

Kinhart let out a frustrated breath as she looked at the sheets of paper. “It’s been over four hours. We’ve made our demands clear. Either sign these papers, or you go to prison. It’s that simple.”

Douglas leaned forward on the table, licking his teeth. “Agents. I requested to see you three _specifically_ for a reason. Think about that. _Very. Carefully._ Is that your final demand? Do you really wanna go this route, in spite of everything I just said?”

“If you were being serious about the threat of the Apis Empire, you would’ve said so on tape. Sounds to us like you’re just bluffing,” said Rysley.

Douglas nodded, and then he scooted his chair backwards and stood up in front of the table. “Got it. Let me make a phone call then. I mean, you allow prisoners one phone call, right?”

Rysley nodded. “Fine. But just one call.”

Douglas moved away from the agents as he quickly dialed someone’s number and held the phone up to his earhole. “Yeah, it’s me. Green light.”

The person on the other end of the phone exhaled with relief. “Finally.”

Doug hung up his phone and slid the cellular device into his pocket. Kinhart glared at the shark and blinked.

“What did you just do?”

Ignoring Kinhart, Douglas faced Rysley instead. “Agent Rysley, your wife and six-year-old daughter still live out in the countryside, right? They’re in a small neighborhood, live in a house that you still haven’t finished painting blue yet?”

The iguana’s eyes widened. “How did—who was on that phone? What the fuck did you just do?!”

Douglas looked at Kinhart and noticed she was waving Ervo to come into the room. Rysley panted frantically as he stood from his chair and paced around in the room holding his cell phone. The shark exhaled.

“Agent Rysley, I suggest you start creating funeral arrangements. Because by the time you get home, your wife and daughter will be dead.”

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!”

Ervo, a white man who was losing his hair and gaining weight around his midsection, stepped into the interrogation room and stood behind Rysley.

“Right now there’s a very burly man breaking into your house. I instructed him to rape your wife and daughter, and to cut off their heads and leave them on the fireplace for you to find.”

Ervo swore as he pulled out his radio and called for two guards. Rysley whimpered as he listened to his cell phone ringing, but his wife never picked up. The iguana shouted with frustration as he tossed his cell phone at the wall.

“Call it off,” the lizard snarled.

“It’s too late—”

“CALL IT OFF RIGHT NOW!”

Douglas leaned against the wall and smirked. “I did warn you. All you had to do—”

Ervo, instinctively, grabbed Rysley from behind as he swore at him and pulled out his gun. Kinhart rushed over to the iguana and restrained him as well, holding him back as he thrashed around and tried to throttle the shark. Douglas just continued to smirk, staring at the reptile as he screamed, spittle flying from his mouth as tears formed in his eyes. Two other police officers stormed inside the room and saw the kerfuffle, and they promptly restrained the hysterical iguana, removing his weapon from his hands. As they escorted him out of the room, Kinhart grabbed her head while Ervo took out a pair of handcuffs.

“Put him in holding! We’ll call for a prison van to come and—”

“No, you won’t,” Douglas snarled.

“You just violated your deal! You didn’t sign the immunity papers and on top of that, now we have you for ordering the deaths of a TPO agent’s family!”

“But Agent Kinhart,” Douglas said softly. “Don’t you wanna see your elderly mother again?”

The agent’s eyes grew wide, and she backed away. Ervo already sensed where the giant fish was going with this, and he swallowed hard.

“And Ervo, don’t you want your adorable son to enter high school this autumn? I know that your wife was kidnapped and you failed to save her all those years ago. But you still have your son left, your precious, _vulnerable_ son.”

Kinhart scoffed. “My-my mother will be dead within two years. I don’t—”

“If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be visiting twice every week at the retirement home. And you wouldn’t be paying them so much money to ensure she is as comfortable as possible there. As for you, Ervo, don’t even bother bluffing that you don’t care about your son. So!”

Douglas clapped his hands together. “Let’s try this again! I’m going to walk out of this room. I’m going to leave this building. And then I shall return home, and go to sleep. While I’m doing all of this, you agents will use all this glorious information that I provided for you to make all of your employers happy. And if you see me again in the future, you will remember what happened here today, and you will remain oblivious to any illegal activities you may or may not see me engaged in. Are we clear?”

Ervo gritted his teeth and stomped over to the shark. “You can’t…” The man huffed. “You…you can’t do this,” he whimpered.

“As soon as I walk out of this building, I will inform the other two people I have watching your families to stand down. Otherwise, the man who is currently murdering Rysley’s family has instructions to let my two hitmen know that they are clear to kill your families. And just to be clear, if you _still_ are obsessed with incarcerating or killing me, remember what I said about Commander Maynard. If you’re fine with dooming all of Tero because you couldn’t let _one_ criminal get away, then by all means,” Douglas held his hands out in front of Ervo and grinned. “Slap the cuffs on me.”

He knew they wouldn’t do it. They couldn’t. They would have to swallow their pride to ensure the safety of their families. And if not for them, then they’d have to do it in order to keep Tero intact. Neither of them wanted to be responsible for the extermination of an entire planet because they couldn’t get past a grudge against the shark. Still grinning, Douglas lowered his hands and walked over to the door. He grabbed the handle, pressed down on it, and opened the door. As he entered the corridor, Douglas adjusted his cuffs and started to walk towards the elevator, moments before he heard someone sprinting behind him.

“KEVRO!”

Douglas huffed and turned around. “Agent Kinhart, did you forget—”

“Call off the other two hitmen now.”

“I already—”

“Do it right now,” she said, taking out her handgun. “Or I will kill you.”

“But, Agent Kinhart,” he said, sounding innocent again. “You can’t do that! Killing an unarmed anthro? That’s illegal!”

“I don’t fucking care,” she said, her voice cracking. “If it means I go to prison just to make sure someone like you won’t continue ruining this planet, then fine. Just…call them off.”

Douglas exhaled. “Well, I certainly don’t feel like dying today, so fine.”

True to his word, the shark took out his cell phone and dialed two different numbers. He quickly told his hitmen to stand down, and then sniffled as he hung up his phone and nodded.

“Happy? Now put your gun away.”

His eyes moved down as the shark stared at Kinhart’s hand gradually moving backwards until she placed her gun back into its holster. Before Douglas decided to turn back around so he could head to the elevator, he looked at Kinhart’s face and snorted.

“You know of Detective Glendale?”

“What about him?”

“I asked him why he keeps doing what he does when he knows it’ll end up driving him crazy. And he…heh, he said he does it, so that he can wipe the smug grins off criminals’ faces. He said that makes it all worth it. And…see, now that I’m here, in this position, I understand what he means. You just-you look _so_ pitiful right now, Agent Kinhart. And honestly, getting shot, giving up many of my contacts, having to deal with Rast and Seamus’ incompetence—it was all worth it! It was _all_ worth it, just to see this beautiful, beautiful face you’re making right now.”

Douglas kept staring at the woman’s sullen face before he sniffled and nodded gently. “Have a nice day.”

After talking to the agent, Douglas turned around and headed for the elevator. He relaxed himself as he got inside, headed down to the ground floor, and stepped out into the bottom section of the station. Then he nonchalantly maneuvered his way past the police officers, opened up the front door, and walked outside.

___________________________

It floated down slowly in front of his snout before landing on the counter. Douglas blinked before he flicked the spider web away and observed it falling to the floor, not far from a pair of shoes. He leaned back in his chair as he observed the news report on the television set hanging from the ceiling. For once this time, the news was reporting something positive, and going on about the multiple arrests that took place over the past week. At least thirty of the people Doug named when he was being interrogated had been apprehended or killed, and a dozen different criminal organizations were permanently put to rest. The TPO agents also released to the public that Seamus Osgranov, the “mastermind” behind the Universal Gardens Massacre, had also been killed. Doug was a bit surprised that Rast’s name was mostly kept out of the news, but he assumed that was for the sake of not upsetting Rast’s next of kin. It didn’t matter. Both he and Seamus were dead and gone, and he could finally run all his operations in peace again. Douglas exhaled as he got off his stool and started to close down the Big Piggies store. It was already past ten, and it had been a very slow day today. The shark was just about to lock the front door when a young Rottweiler shoved the door open, nearly knocking Douglas down.

“Whoa—hey, sir! Calm down, calm down. The store hasn’t closed just yet,” the shark said.

Douglas shut the door and exhaled as he looked at the Rottweiler. He was wearing a pair of red basketball shorts and a red jersey that went down past his waist. He looked a bit skinny for his species, and his face was bruised. When the canine spoke, Douglas could see that four of his teeth were missing.

“Th-thank you. Um…friend of mine told me he wanted some new sneakers, but I’m not sure what to get him.”

_Fuck me_ , Douglas thought. “Oh? Does your friend have a preference?”

“Something from Earth. I hear the-the Nike and Adidas brands were popular over there.”

Douglas frowned. He blinked twice. “Well. We got plenty of choices to choose from over there. Any color preference?”

The dog nodded. “Yeah, yeah, he-he likes warm col—”

“Yellow I’m assuming.”

The Rottweiler’s eyes widened. “…How did you know I would say that?”

“Oh, fuck this,” Douglas snarled.

The shark walked over to the store’s front door and flipped the sign over. He shut off the main light, grabbed the dog by the back of his neck, and dragged him across the floor like he was a ragdoll. The dog whimpered and tried to break free, but Douglas was far too strong. He dragged him into the back rooms before he shut and locked the door. Then he slammed the dog against his desk, knocking over various shoe boxes in the process.

“I’ve no time for this bullshit again!”

Douglas walked over to the dog and thoroughly searched his body for any kind of bugs or microphones. When he realized the dog was clean, he exhaled and walked back over to his desk again. Just as the canine got to his footpaws, Douglas put on black gloves and removed a silver handgun with a suppressor from his desk. He pointed it at the dog.

“Wait—WAIT! I CAME HERE TO MAKE A DEAL! I CAN MAKE—”

Doug shot the canine through his forehead. Blood splattered against the walls, and the dog’s body landed on the floor with a hard thud. The shark exhaled as he lowered his handgun and shook his head.

“Not this time,” he murmured.

Douglas stared at the corpse on the floor and exhaled as he set his pistol back inside his desk. He looked at the canine’s body and rubbed his head, realizing that he would probably have to spend all night cleaning up the mess he made.

“Damn it,” he murmured. “Well, least you didn’t piss on my floor like that rat did.”

The shark grunted as he reached down and started to move the body. Suddenly, he heard a subtle crackling noise, followed by what sounded like someone passing gas. Douglas looked at the dog and gagged as he let go of the body and promptly backed away. He sniffed the air again, and clearly detected the distinct odor of fecal matter.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

_________________________________

The funeral wasn’t profound or anything special. The gecko showed up, as did Rast’s family, Amy, and a small group of other friends. Lamson wasn’t sure how to feel after the funeral ended, especially when he saw Rast’s sister break down hysterically before the coffin was lowered into the ground. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t shed any tears that day, but now? He wasn’t sure how he felt. So many people had died in the past four months, and after the Universal Gardens Massacre, Lamson began to drift away from the rat. Now he was dead, and he didn’t know what else to do with his life. As Lamson sat down in his psychology class listening to Mr. Kenchum lecturing him again, he slowly rested his chin down on his notebook. Soon enough, he’d graduate college. And then what? Move out the city? Get a better job? Become a police officer? Lamson didn’t know. The gecko looked around the classroom, and everyone seemed to be acting as casually as ever. It was almost like what occurred in the past few months never happened. If anything, it felt like all was forgotten about.

But Lamson couldn’t do it. He couldn’t forget about the train derailment, about the various massacres, and he especially couldn’t forget about how Rast was murdered at a gas station by some random thug whom the police haven’t caught yet. It all seemed so pointless…it _was_ pointless.

“Hey, Lam?”

The gecko looked to his right and saw Amy looking at him with the same apathetic, depressed look in her eyes.

“Yeah?”

“You…I was gonna head to the bar tonight. I’m…I just haven’t—”

“That won’t make you feel better.”

Amy chuckled softly and nodded. “It does when I have company.”

Lamson slowly shook his head. “No…I just need to be alone for a little while longer.”

Amy paused for a moment, and then turned away and looked down at her notebooks. “Okay. I understand,” she said softly.

Maybe it would be better if he left. Lamson was always fond of Stercullo, but now it seemed like the city he grew up in was no longer there. All he saw were piles of feces littered around every corner, and everyone in the city was too lazy to clean it up, too in denial that all the excrement was stinking up the city. It was all commonplace now, and Lamson was finally fed up with it. The gecko placed his chin down on his desk again and shut his eyes, trying to reminisce about the city before it was rife with crime and people complacent about said crime. And then Jessie nudged him in his ribs.

“Hey…you see the news?” the lemur asked.

Lamson exhaled. “No,” the gecko growled.

“Check your phone! My god, I can’t believe something like this happened!”

Lamson grunted as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and brought up the Internet. He saw a breaking news story about how a crazy madman had shot and killed a rising pop star celebrity while she was signing autographs for her fans, moments before turning the gun on himself. Lamson looked at the news story and blinked. He shut off his phone and put his head down on his desk again.

“Did you see it, Lam?”

“Yup.”

“Geez…this world, eh?”

Lamson paused. And then he felt his eyes watering.

“Yeah.”


End file.
